


Skipping Rocks

by Boxxsaltz



Category: K-pop, Mamamoo
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Drama, F/F, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 67,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boxxsaltz/pseuds/Boxxsaltz
Summary: The beginnings, middles, ends, and becomings of a girl who was a nobody from Jeonju and her best friend.





	1. Agate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The agate will let you know that, such as when you are very sad, this will pass and help you get on to another and better day. The agate gives us the strength to carry on.

She met Hyejin when she was seven.  
  
The day was hot. Wheein could remember the sweat rolling down her back in her favorite pair of overalls as she stood at the edge of a creek, a handful of rocks clutched in her fist. She was upset and she let out her rage on each innocent rock she chucked into the waters.  
  
She wished she could say that each little plop brought her some sort of satisfaction but the more she threw, the more anger bubbled up in her stomach and the hotter the sun seemed to get and the more sweat was oozing down her back. She hated sweat.  
  
"What're you doing?"  
  
The rock Wheein threw hit the bank and rolled just shy of the water.  _Great._  That did nothing to help her mood and she snapped her neck around to glare at the demon who distracted her. It was that neighborhood girl.  _That_  neighborhood girl. The one who was always sucking on a sucker that turned her mouth weird colors and thought the holes in the knees of her jeans were cool. It was kind of cool but Wheein's mother would never approve and Wheein was too ticked off to dish out compliments.  
  
"What do you want?" she grumbled.  
  
The girl looked from Wheein to the rock that failed to make it into the water. Popping the sucker out of her mouth, she licked her lips with a blue tongue. "Want to see something cool?"  
  
"No."  
  
Her decline fell on deaf ears and the girl moved closer, unfazed by Wheein's hostility. Picking up a smooth rock, she stepped back a few paces and threw it at the water where it bounced across the surface one, two, three times before it sank. Wheein shook off her awe when she saw the girl looking at her.  
  
"Cool, huh?"  
  
She shrugged. "I guess."  
  
"Want to see it again?"  
  
Wheein gave another shrug because she sort of wanted to see it again but pride was a devil of a thing. The girl smirked something smug and threw another rock. Then another one. And another one. Each one skipped across the surface leaving pretty ripples in their wake.  
  
"Let me try!" Wheein said, stomping over to pick up a stone much smoother than the ones she’d been tossing. Standing on the edge, she reeled back her arm and threw only for the rock to go straight down with no cool effects attached.  
  
The girl laughed at her but before Wheein could get offended, a rock was being pressed into her palm and a beaming smile was in her eyes. "Try again."  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein snorted. Hyejin looked over at her, eyebrow cocked at the sudden outburst. They were eleven now and Hyejin had a haircut that her mother greatly disapproved of because she said it made her look like a boy. Wheein didn’t mind it though she remembered when Hyejin showed up on her doorstep one weekend, as usual, wearing a hood despite it being hellacious degrees outside. When they got to Wheein’s room, she yanked it off and Wheein ended up on the floor in shock.  
  
“What?” asked Hyejin.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Whaaaat?”  
  
“Nooooothing.”  
  
“Loser.” Hyejin hit her in the arm.  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to tell Hyejin what she was thinking. She’d been thinking about that day - the day they met - a lot lately. Maybe because they were back at that same creek. The one that became their place, their escape, their hideout and their very own home with a blanket tossed out beneath an old, shade tree with a bag of snacks and bottles of juice.  
  
They’d come back to this same place many times over the years. Wheein wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she’d done it before then, but something was made that day and a routine built out of it. Even if they both got scolded by their parents for 1) Wheein leaving without telling anyone she was gone and 2) Hyejin choosing to ditch her chores instead of cleaning her room the way her mother told her.  
  
It was worth it. Wheein met Hyejin and she found somewhere to get away from the nightmares that befell home.  
  
“Ugh, it’s hot,” said Hyejin. She rolled over onto her back, arms spread out. “Jung Wheein.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Do you want to run away?”  
  
Wheein lolled her head against the tree down to Hyejin whose head was rested by her thighs. Her eyes were closed. Shadows of leaves danced across her face with the gentle breeze. She seemed so calm and serene. Wheein felt the calm begin to come to her as well.  
  
“Where would we go?” she asked.  
  
“I don’t know, you pick. Somewhere fun.” Her eyes opened, light browns catching the sun just right so they glowed hot and creamy. Wheein’s stomach fluttered at the sight. Hyejin was looking at her so softly. It made her feel silly. “Where do you want to go?”  
  
Wheein shrugged but there was warmth in her chest. Hyejin never did ask her if she was okay. She didn’t need to. She just  _knew_  when she wasn’t. She could read it off of her easily the same way Wheein could read her. Running away, asking if she wanted ice cream, telling her she’d be a maid while Wheein could be her princess was Hyejin’s way of asking. It was her way of telling Wheein that she wanted her to be happy and to stop crying even though she didn’t know exactly how to make it happen or the right things to say.  
  
Wheein didn’t know how to make that happen for herself either but she knew being with Hyejin was something close to happiness.  
  
She craned her neck back to the treetops. “Let’s build a treehouse instead.”  
  
Hyejin gasped in excitement, body shooting up so fast it was a wonder she didn’t get dizzy. “Oh my god! Let’s do it!”  
  
“A big one.”  
  
“With windows and a door.”  
  
“A swing?”  
  
“And bedroom!”  
  
“Bedrooms?” Wheein couldn't fathom such a huge treehouse but she liked the way it sounded.  
  
“Yeah! We could live right here! We could even have a kitchen.”  
  
“Who would cook?”  
  
“Me, duh. You do the cleaning.”  
  
Her nose wrinkled. She hated cleaning. “Why can’t I cook?”  
  
“You’re not allowed in the kitchen, Wheenderella.”  
  
“What did you call me?  
  
“Wheen. Der. Ella.”  
  
Wheein pounced, fingers like claws going into Hyejin’s sides. It was the wrong form of attack because Hyejin’s counter was much worse.  
  
Wheein found herself wheezing, body aching at the assault she received. She couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t get away. Hyejin was too strong, knee placed squarely on Wheein’s hip to hold her while she tortured her to the brink of tickle monster death.  
  
“Okay. Okay! Stop, stop, stop! I’ll be Wheenderella!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’ll clean!” she wailed.  
  
Hyejin let up. She plopped onto the ground just as winded as Wheein was. She felt like a wreck, ribs aching and throat raw from all the laughing. Her limbs felt like noodles.  
  
“You're evil.” She sneered.  
  
“I  _am_  the evil stepmother.”  
  
“That’s weird.”  
  
“You're weird.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes. “You’re stupid.”  
  
Hyejin blew her a kiss. Wheein earned a pout when she dodged it. She laughed and it felt good. So good. So light and airy. Everything she was upset about before had gone away.  
  
“We should go,” said Hyejin. The sun had started to dip below the horizon and her parents didn’t like it when she got back after sundown.  
  
Getting up, Wheein folded the blanket while Hyejin packed up the snacks. She didn’t feel so bad anymore.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
When Wheein got home she remembered why she spent most of her time at the creek with Hyejin in the first place.  
  
The disgruntled annoyance her father came out of the house and down the walkway with was enough to tell Wheein what more happened while she was gone. The day was already long and tiresome without the added burden of her parents who had forgotten how to be parents together.  
  
Wheein ducked her head and clutched the straps of her backpack as she walked toward the house. She didn’t really want to talk to him. She wished she was invisible but she wasn’t and he was still her father.  
  
“Where were you?” he asked, stopping her short.  
  
“With Hyejin.” She didn’t say any more. Even in his increasing absence, he knew who Hyejin was and accepted that response as a sound one.  
  
“Go tell your mother. She was worried.”  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
Wheein wasn’t sure how many times she asked him that over the years. It was that same question that led her to the place where she met Hyejin.  
  
_“Where are you going? Mom, tell him not to go! Say you’re sorry.”_  
  
Her mom didn’t apologize. Her dad left. Wheein ran away in angry tears.  
  
She’d grown up a little now. She didn’t cry like she used to but the lump was always there.  
  
Her father placed a hand on her head in what was meant to be a comforting gesture and walked off. No other words. Gravel picked up in his tires as he peeled away. Watching him go created a sick feeling in the pit of Wheein’s stomach. She missed the lies he used to tell her when he’d leave. At least those gave her something to try and believe in.  
  
She slipped into the house, careful not to let the door close too loudly. Her mother heard anyway and her voice called out from her office.  
  
“Jung Wheein.”  
  
She didn’t call back. Instead, she walked to the office and stood in the doorway. There were stress lines in her forehead and traces of it in silver strands that streaked her hair. Wheein pretended not to notice the less than perfect makeup. She just wished she stopped crying over him. He didn’t care so why should they anymore? Wheein guessed it was love. She didn’t ever want to have that kind of love.  
  
“Where are you coming from?” she asked, voice even. There was a hint of a rasp in there left over from the argument they had.  
  
“The creek with Hyejin.”  
  
“Have you done your homework?”  
  
“Yes,” she lied.  
  
Her mother stared at her a moment, waiting for Wheein to crack and tell the truth the way she used to do when she was younger and her mother’s looks used to be the scariest things. “Go wash up.”  
  
Wheein went to her room, tossed her backpack onto the floor and flopped short ways onto the bed, head and feet dangling off the sides. She itched to call Hyejin, ask her if she wanted to do homework over the phone only to get caught up talking until they fell asleep with each other’s breaths keeping one another company. It was one of her favorite things to do. Waking up hearing Hyejin’s groggy voice apologizing for dozing off was one of the best parts.  
  
She kicked the idea away. She did need to do her homework without the distraction. Her marks in math had dropped and her marks never dropped. It was just so hard to get work done when Hyejin was around.  
  
Pulling out her folder, she sat up in bed and started on her work. She’d gotten most of it done when soft taps knocked on the door.  
  
“Wheein?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
The door whimpered as it opened. Her mother peeked her head in. She eyed the school work with pursed lips but didn’t say anything about it as she walked inside. “You missed dinner. Did you eat at the Ahn’s?”  
  
“Yeah,” she lied again. She’d gotten surprisingly good at lying to her mother over the years. It was just easier that way. It was less of a burden to put on her mother who was already so stressed. Wheein wanted to make it easier.  
  
Her mother shifted where she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Did you talk to your father?”  
  
“Yeah.” If those few words shared outside could be considered as talking. Wheein had vague memories, ones of her still in pampers, about a father who used to always hold her and play with her. Those memories were so hazy and disjointed she decided they were just dreams.  
  
“I don’t know where he told you he was go-“  
  
“He didn’t tell me anything, mom.”  
  
Her jaw tightened. There was a weird look on her face. Wheein wasn’t sure what it was. Her mom and her dad made a lot of faces she didn’t understand completely yet. She just knew there were secrets and unspoken words hidden behind them they thought she too young to know. “Wash up before bed.”  
  
The door closed. Sighing, she pushed her school work aside and laid down. The weightlessness she felt at the creek had gone away and was replaced by familiar pain.  
  
She closed her eyes. Tomorrow was another day. For a few more hours, she could wait.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein stared at the clock. The maths instructor was droning on and she couldn’t wait for the bell to release them for lunch. That was the best part of the day. For one reason in particular.  
  
The bell was soon to sound and chairs scratched as everyone go up. Grabbing her lunchbox, she hurried out and down the hall toward Hyejin’s classroom. She hadn’t had a class with Hyejin since they were nine. She figured the teachers caught onto their antics and got tired of them giggling and passing notes and thought it better to have them separated. Wheein did have to admit her marks went up after that but it was a dull trade off not having her best friend around.  
  
Reaching the room, she peered around the corner to find Hyejin sitting on top of a desk in the middle of the class with her elbow leaning on the shoulder of the boy who occupied her perch. There were others around her, caught in the middle of a discussion as they all prepared for lunch period. The boy and the others laughed at something Hyejin said. His laugh was a little too loud while the girls slapped each other’s shoulders at the hilarity.  
  
Wheein felt something akin to the color green. Hyejin wasn’t like her. Hyejin was dynamic and open and charming and edgy in a way Wheein was not. She faired easily in crowds and pulled people in with her unique personality and countering qualities that made others curious about who she was. She was daring and bold. She was parts of what Wheein wished she had.  
  
Hyejin looked up, eye catching Wheein at the door. The others followed her eye line but regarded her with little interest. Wheein didn’t care. They weren’t her friends.  
  
Flicking the boy’s forehead, Hyejin slid off the desk, waved to her friends, and skipped out the door. “Hey,” she said, looping her arm around Wheein’s. She steered them into the hallway rush with ease. “Do you want to eat out on the patio?”  
  
Wheein didn’t have a problem with that. She let Hyejin take them out back to the picnic tables where they could be alone. The green in her began to dissipate as they took out lunch containers, shoulders brushing where they sat side by side on the bench. The fact Hyejin wanted to eat with her and no one else felt special. The fact she was Hyejin’s best friend made her feel like she won at life. The fact Hyejin fed her bits of sweet bread, fingers grazing her lip, and asking Wheein if she liked it with that satisfied smile on her face made her feel like she was the luckiest girl in the world.  
  
But there was something she was curious about.  
  
“Who’s that boy?” she asked because she hadn’t seen him before. Not that Wheein paid a lot of attention.  
  
“Cheoljoo?” Hyejin swallowed before continuing. “He’s new. He says his uncle is a famous rapper or something but we think he’s lying.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Hyejin smirked. “Do you think he’s cute?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Wheein didn’t think about things like that.  
  
“Not as cute as me, right?”  
  
Wheein wanted to strike back with something snarky but she got stuck on Hyejin’s mouth pulling into a smile. A peculiar thought rolled through her mind like thunder. That Hyejin  _was_  cute. That Hyejin’s smile was extraordinarily pretty. Her body reacted to the thought with a heat that zipped through her like lightning turning her insides fuzzy and making her ears ring.  
  
“Are you okay?” asked Hyejin, examining her flushed face. “Are you going to throw up?”  
  
“Maybe. On you.”  
  
“Ugh!” Hyejin pushed her over.  
  
Wheein went sprawling across the bench, laughter on her tongue. Hyejin’s own chased after, choppy and throaty and unique. Wheein looked at her through a curtain of short, black hair tossed in her face from their horseplay. She watched the way that smile broke across Hyejin’s face again, the way her eyes bowed, and her nose wrinkled. She saw how Hyejin offered a hand to help pull her back upright only to shove her over again and pounce.  
  
Wheein groaned at the sudden weight sinking her into the wood and the overwhelming weightlessness that overcame her stomach when a chin rested on her shoulder so lips were close to her ear.  
  
“You’re a loser, you know?”  
  
“Takes one to know one.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
“Yeah!” Wheein pushed her off with a shrug. “And ugly.”  
  
Hyejin grabbed by the ear causing her to yelp. “Take it back!”  
  
“Ugly!”  
  
Somehow they ended up on the concrete with lunch forgotten.  
  
Wheein didn’t mind. These were the moments she endured long nights for and she’d soak them up as much as she could.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The smell of cologne was in the air when Wheein got home. The expensive kind her father reserved for special occasions. He was coming out of the bedroom when she was headed up the hall. His dress shoes scuffed the hardwood when he stopped, taken by surprise at seeing her.  
  
“Hey, puppy.” The term of endearment made her smile a little. He hadn’t called her that in a long time.  
  
“Hi.” She looked him over. He was dressed nice but not business like work. He had recently showered and his freshly blow-dried hair was styled neatly. “Are you leaving?”  
  
“I have some things to take care of,” he said, unbuttoning one of his shirt buttons. “Your mom will be home late tonight. Will you be okay on your own for a few hours?”  
  
“Yeah.” It wouldn’t be the first time was left alone. Many times happened when neither parent knew it was happening. She’d heard them fuss at each other about it. How,  
  
_“You can’t leave a child home alone!”  
  
“She was fine.”  
  
“You’re missing the point!”_  
  
They seemed to stop caring now that they saw she wasn’t going to burn the house down.  
  
“Make sure all the doors are locked.” He placed a hand on her head before going.  
  
Wheein went to her room and dressed down. She had some work to do and started on it until her stomach began to growl well past seven. Her mother had yet to show. That was late. Even for her.  
  
Going to the kitchen, Wheein opened the refrigerator. Side dishes, nasty leftovers, a couple of drinks, raw meats and things she didn’t know how to cook. Wheein let the fridge close. Snatching the phone off the wall she dialed one of the few numbers she had memorized, curling the cord around her finger as the line rang.  
  
“Hello?” Hyejin answered.  
  
“I’m coming over.”  
  
“I hoped you’d say that!”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The Ahn’s lived fairly close. Wheein liked that. It was convenient. She took her bike this time around hoping it would get her there before the sun went too far down and left it tossed in the yard.  
  
“Wheein!” Hyejin’s dad greeted her when he answered the door. Wheein didn’t see a lot of him. He worked nights and was usually gone when she visited in the evenings. “You’re getting more beautiful by the day. Come in, Hyejin’s in her room.”  
  
“Hi, Mr. Ahn.” She blushed as she stepped inside. “Thank you.”  
  
“Dad, go to work,” Hyejin grumbled in the background.  
  
“Mind your tone,” he said, voice oddly stern.  
  
Hyejin held back her eye roll. “Yes, sir.”  
  
Hyejin closed the door on him once he left. She noticeably relaxed.  
  
“What was that?” asked Wheein. She never saw Hyejin’s parents anything less than cordial. They were the kind of people who over offered drinks and snacks and never missed a commitment. They were something Wheein wished she had. Her parents, she found out once, were whispers in the neighborhood. Two young adults with a kid too soon and not nearly old enough to know how to raise one. Wheein tried not to think about it.  
  
“Nothing, let's go.”  
  
It was then Wheein noticed Hyejin was dressed to go out. “Where?”  
  
“I don’t care. I don’t wanna be here. Please?”  
  
“Fine, but I’m hungry.”  
  
“We’ll eat. Come on!”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They decided to get street food. Wheein dug in her pocket for her little coin purse and sighed in relief when she found some of her stored up lunch money inside.  
  
Getting hot dogs on a stick, they walked down the road. There weren’t many people out and it was nice. Wheein didn’t like being in crowds. She stayed close to Hyejin’s side just in case, arm looped with hers as they strolled with no aim in mind.  
  
“Oh, wait!” Hyejin took them on a hard left. She stopped them in front of a pinboard. Hyejin had a fascination with them and Wheein had learned to like them as well.  
  
Turning Wheein loose, she walked the length of the board, eyes scanning the fliers and ads and pictures posted with mismatched push pins and tacks. Wheein did the same. News articles about politics and money and figures she was too young to care about went over her head while ads for salons and spas caught her interest. She’d like to go to a spa one day.  
  
Wheein moved down to Hyejin who was gazing at the other end of the board. She rested her chin on her shoulder just as she yanked something down. “What’s that?”  
  
“Something about auditions,” said Hyejin, eyes glossing the bold text.  
  
Wheein leaned in further, squinting at the information. She laughed when she saw it was a call for people who wanted to be idols. “That sounds stupid.”  
  
“You think so? I think it would be cool.”  
  
Wheein lifted off her shoulder with a snort. “Because you want people to worship you.”  
  
“Don’t they already?” She gave a dramatic hair flip. Wheein laughed. It was ridiculous when she had no hair to really flip. “I’m going to look it up.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Why are you surprised?” Hyejin’s brow wrinkled in slight offense as she folded up the paper to put in her pocket. “Don’t think I could do it?”  
  
Wheein shrugged. “Sounds like a lot of work.”  
  
“That’s ‘cause you’re lazy.”  
  
Wheein grabbed her in a chokehold. Hyejin laughed through fake choking. Weaseling out of her hold, she took off running. Wheein tailed after her, weaving and darting through people who jerked and stepped out of their way as they barrelled through without any concern or courtesy.  
  
Feet slowed down and Wheein ran into Hyejin. She climbed onto her back like a monkey and held on as Hyejin continued walking off the sidewalk toward what caught her attention.  
  
It was an old amphitheater. They’d passed by it in their past travels many times before. Wheein could remember from trips with her mothers small shows and performances being put on there but they never cared to stop. The closer they drew, the smaller it seemed but the wooden benches and antique style stage helped to retain its curious quality.  
  
“Get off me, you tick.”  
  
Wheein bit her ear before she jumped off and cackled when Hyejin tried to swat at her but missed. Retaliation was short lived when the stage beckoned Hyejin and she climbed up. Wheein stayed on lower ground, watching her walk around.  
  
“I’d perform here.”  
  
Wheein laughed. “Who would want to see a loser from Jeonju?”  
  
“Who are you calling a loser!” she argued back. “After I hold a concert in Seoul, I’d come here. I’ll do something right here.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Sing. What else?”  
  
“In front of crowds?”  
  
“I’m not scared. I won that talent show, remember?”  
  
Wheein did. That was a couple years back where their child level skills were put on display for parents and everyone went home with some sort of prizes to keep the kids from crying and parents from complaining. Wheein wasn’t in it. Stages kind of scared her. She helped the parents pass out programs instead.  
  
“Watch me,” said Hyejin. Holding the hot dog stick in her hand like a microphone, she started to sing into it.  
  
It was like that time at the talent show. Wheein always knew Hyejin could sing but she never heard her sing like  _that_ and she definitely hadn’t heard her sing or perform like this. She was better now though a little overdramatic. Wheein could tell she’d been watching idol stages and music videos. She made the faces and moved around like they did, putting in too much unf here and too much pow there.  
  
Wheein wanted to laugh at her, tell her how silly she looked dancing around and signing with no music in front of an audience of one but she couldn’t. She got caught on the way Hyejin started to get a little more serious. How unashamed and focused she was. How easy and carefree she was able to do something like that regardless of the people walking down the sidewalk and buzzing down the street in the background.  
  
It made Wheein’s palms itch. It looked like fun.  
  
“Help me up!” she yelled.  
  
She gripped Hyejin’s wrist that extended down to her and squeaked when she was thrown up onto the stage. She stumbled, body falling into Hyejin who steadied her with hands that snaked around her neck, holding her in place while she sang.  
  
Wheein went stiff. Hyejin was so close and so alive and so warm. She beamed, eyes sparkling and mouth smiling as she sang. “Sing with me.”  
  
So Wheein did.  
  
She sang and she danced, body swaying with Hyejin’s who guided them around the stage in their very own concert and choreography. The background faded away, her self-consciousness faded away, her worries and fears and pains faded away. All there was was her, Hyejin, and a song. All there was was a rush of adrenaline and freedom she hadn’t felt before. Not like this.  
  
Belting the last note, they dropped to the stage, splayed out on their backs, panting in the humid air. Her shirt was sticking to her back, sweaty and gross from dancing but she didn’t care. Wheein turned her head, catching Hyejin looking back at her. There was so much life in her gaze. Wheein could feel it inside herself, too. Something ignited and sure.  
  
“That was fun.” Hyejin’s grin was infectious. Her energy was infectious.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“See, I could do it,” said Hyejin. “You, too.”  
  
“Me?”  
  
“Duh. I can’t have a crappy backup singer.”  
  
“Backup singer!”  
  
Hyejin giggled and rolled to her side putting them closer. Fingers brushed hers and Wheein let Hyejin slip her hand into her palm. “Imagine if.”  
  
Wheein snorted. “We can’t be idols.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
_We’re nobody,_ was what she wanted to say. She wasn’t good enough, wealthy enough, pretty enough. She had never put a thought into it before. They were just a pair of kids messing around like always. “That’s crazy, Hyejin.”  
  
“Buuuuut what if.”  
  
If it was a dream, if it was something to fantasize about, if it was a headspace she could go to in this less than perfect reality. “If, what if, then yeah.”  
  
“Together, right?” Hyejin pressed. Her eyes were intense.  
  
Wheein shivered under her stare. She wasn’t sure why. “Right.”  
  
The hand holding Wheein’s tightened and pulled so their knees bumped and their foreheads touched. They’d always been close and open but there was something different in the atmosphere around them in that moment. It was static and thick and made it hard to breathe.  
  
“Whatever we do, always be with me, okay?” said Hyejin. “No matter what.”  
  
“Okay,” Wheein said, voice low. It felt wrong to do anything other than whisper. “You, too.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The door shut and everything blew up.  
  
“There you are.” Her mother threw herself out of the kitchen chair and lunged across the room to her. She reeked of relief, worry, and anger. And something else. Something heavy on her breath. Wheein didn’t like that. Not coupled with the bothered, tired look her father gave her. “Where have you been?”  
  
“I was with Hyejin.”  
  
“Not at her house,” her father snapped. He pushed off the kitchen counter and crossed, face stern. “Where were you?”  
  
“I told you. With Hyejin!”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“We were- we didn’t really go anywhere.”  
  
“Tell her where, Wheein,” he demanded. A hand grabbed her arm. He looked so pissed. And scared? “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”  
  
“We went to eat street food- ow, dad. You’re hurting me.”  
  
“We didn’t know what happened to you!”  
  
“Dad, stop. Let go.”  
  
“Let her go,” said her mother. Wheein whimpered when his fingers gripped her harder in her struggle to get away. “Let go!”  
  
Her mother yanked her away as he let her loose. Wheein tripped over her feet. She stumbled, wind knocking out of her when she fell against a china cabinet. Glass shattered. A sharp edge cut into her arm, bringing blood instantly up to the surface.  
  
Reality snapped back.  
  
Her parents rushed to her, voices blurring in their concern.  
  
“I’m fine,“ she tired, teeth biting her lip to dull the searing pain in her arm.  
  
They didn’t hear her. They continued to fuss, less over her and more at each other.  
  
“Stop it.”  
  
“I’m trying to help.”  
  
“You’ve done enough.”  
  
“Don’t-“  
  
“I said I’m fine!” Wheein snapped.  
  
They looked down at her, stunned.  
  
Her mother tried to reach for her but she pushed the hand away and got up. Voices chased her as she ran down the hall and closed herself in the bathroom. She leaned back against the door, waiting for one of them to come for her. Neither did. Only their bickering followed.  
  
Walking to the sink, she froze. Her reflection glared back at her. The faint marks of bruises where a hand gripped her were starting to form on her skin in the unmistakable pattern of fingers. Blood smeared on her arm and her hands and stained her shirt. Her hair was messy and her face was void of color that went away in the commotion.  
  
Wheein turned on the water and scrubbed her hands. It wasn’t enough. Pink stained her skin. Purple wasn’t going away. She felt the familiar pricks in the corner of her eyes and tried to push it away but she couldn’t. She couldn’t.  
  
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she continued to scrub, cleaning herself off to the sound of her mother's voice cursing the man who slammed the door and left.  
  
Wheein was forgotten.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
It was hot but Wheein buttoned up her long sleeve uniform shirt and made sure the cuffs stayed securely around her wrist. The cuts on her arm were one thing. The bandages were a tedious addiction and annoying in the way they scratched against her shirt whenever she moved around. She didn’t care much about those - she and Hyejin roughhoused enough that she was subject to a few scrapes and cuts. It was the blotch of bruises across her forearm. Those were the ultimate nuisance.  
  
She thought she hid it well, but-  
  
Hyejin gripped her wrist and pulled her into the restroom. The stall door locked behind them.  
  
“Hyejin, what-” Wordlessly, she took Wheein’s arm and pushed back her sleeve. The bruises looked worst than they were. Wheein jerked out of her hold and fixed her shirt back. “It’s nothing.”  
  
“My mom said that your parents called. I didn’t know they’d freak.”  
  
She cut her eyes away from Hyejin’s. She didn’t like the accusation in her gaze. “I said it was nothing.”  
  
“How bad did he hurt you?”  
  
Wheein wanted to cry. Not because she hurt but because Hyejin’s concern was making her uneasy. “It wasn’t like that.”  
  
Hyejin crossed her arms. “Tell me the truth.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
Hyejin didn’t seem convinced. She was fuming. “Come over tonight.”  
  
“That’s  _why_  I got in trouble!” And they waited until the morning after to apologize. Her mother in the form of a well-packed lunch and her father with a squeeze of the shoulder.  
  
Hyejin’s expression cracked into something apologetic. “We can tell them this time. They wouldn’t mind, right? If you stay over?”  
  
God, Wheein hoped so.  
  
“Call her now.”  
  
“How?”  
  
She watched the gears turn in Hyejin’s head followed by a lightbulb going off. “Come on.”  
  
She led them out toward the canteen. Voices grew louder and louder and Wheein remembered why they ate outside. Approaching a table with familiar faces, Wheein stood back while Hyejin went up to the new boy.  
  
“Cheol- _ah,”_  she sang his name in a way Wheein had never heard her do. Hyejin hated aegyo. “Can I use your phone? It’s an emergency.”  
  
With a shrug, he dug a thick rectangle from his pocket. The others at the table oh’d and awed at the fact he had a cellphone.  
  
Hyejin took it with thanks and handed it to Wheein. “Here.”  
  
Flipping open the screen, she punched in her mother’s work number. She bit her lip as it rang. She didn’t like to call her mom at work. She was only supposed to-  
  
“-use this line for emergencies,” came her mother’s voice after Wheein told her who it was.  
  
“I know. Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder. Hyejin wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was busy teasing Cheoljoo with the others. He didn’t seem to like it very much but it didn’t stop them. Wheein went back to her mother. “Can I stay at Hyejin’s tonight?”  
  
“Wheein.” She could practically hear the purse in her mother's lips.  
  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Are her parents okay with it?”  
  
“Yes.” Why wouldn't they be? The Ahn’s loved Wheein. They said so themselves and reinforced it with extra portions on her plate to help fill out that tiny body of hers.  
  
“I shouldn’t let you after what happened,” said her mother. Wheein was about to accept fate when her mother continued, “but I won’t be home in time to make dinner. Check in later tonight and in the morning.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Her mom hung up first. Wheein stood there a moment shocked. An arm around her neck brought her back. “So?”  
  
“She said yes.”  
  
Hyejin slapped her on the back. “Told ya so!”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein swung her legs in the air from where she laid across Hyejin’s bed. She was bored but the good kind of bored because it wasn’t the alone sort of bored. Music played from speakers connected to Hyejin’s computer. It was some idol chick that had become popular. Wheein hummed along while Hyejin clicked her mouse and surfed.  
  
Papers rustled in the blow of an oscillating fan. Wheein looked over to see what it was and saw the flier Hyejin took from the pinboard sitting on the side table among the stack. She picked it up. The graphics were tacky and the information was flashy but it was kind of interesting.  
  
Wheein thought back to them playing around at the amphitheater. Them? Idols? What a joke. It was almost as plausible as them wanting to be astronauts together. Or go to the Olympics. Or be actresses. They thought up everything and played out everything they could think of growing up. They were nothing but child dreams.  
  
“Hey, look.”  
  
Wheein dropped the flier back onto the desk and rolled onto her stomach to see what Hyejin had pulled up on the computer. It was a video of a girl singing.  
  
“Let’s make one.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“It’ll be our audition.”  
  
She groaned. “You’re still on that?”  
  
“Why aren’t you? It’s better than running away. At least we’d have somewhere to go and we wouldn’t even have to wait. They take trainees as young as eleven.”  
  
Wheein wanted to make a joke but Hyejin was too serious. All the years they spent together, Wheein never really thought to stop and think about what Hyejin wanted or what her life was really like. It was always she who was getting comforted or saved or helped. Hyejin just always came off so strong and okay. There were cracks showing now. Wheein didn’t know what to say.  
  
“Hyejin...”  
  
Knuckles wrapped at the door and opened to Hyejin’s mom. “Wheein? You’re mom called. She says she’ll be out for work for the weekend and wanted to let you know you can stay here until Monday.”  
  
“Really?” She held in her excitement while Hyejin beamed.  
  
“We told her it wouldn't be a problem. Do you need us to take you to pack a bag?”  
  
“I can walk.”  
  
“Take Hyejin with you.”  
  
“Duh.” Hyejin jumped up. “Let’s go.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein left Hyejin in the kitchen to rummage their empty fridge while she went back to her room. Grabbing a bag, she threw clothes in, grabbed her favorite pillow, and shouldered the pack. She was about to head out when she remembered her toothbrush.  
  
Skipping to the bathroom she reached for the knob only to find it locked. Weird. She didn’t think anyone was home. But someone was. They flushed, washed their hands, and opened the door only to freeze.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Wheein looked up into the eyes of a stranger. A man. Bare chest and hair tossed. He was young, probably not much younger than her father. Attractive.  
  
Wheein looked down at the towel wrapped around his waist. Who the-  
  
The bedroom door down the hall opened. “Wheein.”  
  
She looked over to her dad. He looked equally as disheveled. His normally warm cheeks had gone colorless when he realized what just happened. Wheein looked back at the man. His eyes were on her father, asking what he should do. He was at a complete loss for words.  
  
Wheein felt sick.  
  
“Wheein!”  
  
She ran. Finding Hyejin in the kitchen, she grabbed her and pulled her along.  
  
“Was that your dad?”  
  
“Just run!”  
  
Hyejin obeyed. She thundered after Wheein and didn’t look back.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein didn’t talk. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t know what to say. She kept playing the scene in her head over and over and over again. She tried to justify what she saw. Maybe the man was her father’s friend. Maybe he lost his home and her dad was giving him a place to sleep. Maybe he-  
  
Wheein stopped. She knew better than that. He wasn’t simply her father’s friend. That was incredibly unbelievable if only because Wheein didn’t see it coming. Or maybe she did but pushed it to the farthest parts of her mind. Her dad loved them. He loved her mom. He was just...  
  
“Wheein?” Hyejin finally broke the silence. She looked over at her from where she sat in her desk chair, chin rested on the backrest. “What happened?”  
  
Wheein’s mouth had gone dry. She tried to think of a way to say it. Something that excluded the words her father, cheating, a man, and anything else that was awkward and embarrassing to say out loud. She settled with, “There was someone else in the house.”  
  
“Your dad?”  
  
She shook her head. Her voice was small. “Someone else. With him.”  
  
“Oh.” Hyejin’s Eyes widened.  _“Oh.”_  
  
She didn’t want to say what kind of other person it was. That didn’t matter. The nature of what was going on was the worst part and Wheein couldn't digest it. It sat in her stomach like a foul piece of meat, turning her insides into rot.  
  
“Do you...think your mom knows?”  
  
“I don’t know.” How could she have known? She never would’ve guessed something like this was going on. She thought he just- she thought he- she-  
  
Wheein deflated. She didn’t know what she thought.  
  
“He’s a scumbag,” Hyejin grumbled, moving to join Wheein on the bed. Wheein knew it was to make her feel better but she found it offensive. He was still her dad after all. “Dads are like that.”  
  
“Not yours,” she bit back.  
  
Hyejin shrugged and sat back against her pillow, patting the space beside her. Wheein plopped down next to her, head rested on Hyejin’s that fell against her shoulder.  
  
They didn’t talk for a long time after that.  
  
“Are you ever scared of your parents?” asked Hyejin after the large hand on her big, Minnie Mouse clock went from the five to the nine. “Like when they fight?”  
  
Wheein looked down to where Hyejin was smoothing her finger lightly over the bruise on her arm. She almost forgot it was there. “I don’t think he meant it. I don’t think he wants to hurt us.”  
  
“What if he did?”  
  
“What? Are you scared to tell them about your boyfriend?” she teased. She didn’t want to keep talking about her dad or parents or anything heavy anymore.  
  
“What boyfriend?” Hyejin’s nose pulled in distaste.  
  
“Cheol-ah.” She snickered.  
  
“Ugh, stop it.” Hyejin hit her lightly, minding her arm. “He’s gross. He still eats glue.”  
  
“But he has a cell phone~”  
  
“So what? I could get one. He’s not even that cute and I don’t want to kiss boys.”  
  
“Ew.” Wheein laughed. “Do you want to kiss dogs?”  
  
“Jung Wheein!” She reeled her hand back, fist balled in a punch that wouldn’t come. Wheein could only laugh. “Don’t be disgusting. I want to kiss you.”  
  
Wheein’s laughter turned into a choke. “What?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Are you joking?”  
  
“If that’s what gets you to shut up about Cheoljoo.”  
  
“Oh.” Wheein had gone stiff. She didn’t know why she was suddenly in a panic. Why her heart was racing and it was suddenly so hot and her mind was short-circuiting on thinking about Hyejin kissing - oh, god  _kissing_ \- her. It was too much. Too much on top of finding out her father was cheating on her mother with another man? She couldn't breathe. Her stomach was knotting up.  
  
Hyejin eyed her, reading her unease immediately. “What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Did I freak you out?”  
  
“What? No.” She took a breath through her nose and let it out slowly. Her insides were freaking out. “I don’t care.”  
  
“You don’t?” Hyejin tilted her head in a curious way. For the first time, Wheein couldn't read her expression. Maybe it was because her mind was still a mess and the clutter was piling on when Hyejin licked her lips, wetting them in a nervous lick. Why was Hyejin nervous?  
  
Wheein couldn't find her voice. She gave a shrug instead.  
  
“I would kiss you, you know,” she said matter a fact and Wheein thought she was going to hurl. “You’re my best friend, why couldn’t I kiss you?”  
  
“Because we’re- Because that would- because-“  
  
“Because what?” Hyejin moved and she was suddenly in her face, parted lips and dark eyes locked on Wheein’s. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”  
  
Wheein’s heart was on overdrive. She could feel the red in her face and a thick lump in her throat. She’d never felt this way. “H-Hyejin.”  
  
Hyejin laughed but there was something about it. Something off. Something broken. “Relax, I’m not going to do it. God, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”  
  
Wheein blew air past her lips. It didn’t help to remove the hot air still trapped inside. “It’s not funny.”  
  
“Yes, it is.”  
  
“No, it’s not.”  
  
“Yeah, it kinda is.” She planted a peck on Wheein’s cheek and scrambled off the bed. “I’m going to get a popsicle. Do you want one?”  
  
Hyejin didn’t wait for her to answer and left with a villain-esque laugh.  
  
Wheein spent the five minutes she was gone to clean up the goo of a mess she had become.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Her father picked her up from school on Monday. Hyejin squeezed her hand and left her side. Wheein never felt more alone than she did walking toward the car. She climbed in, backpack held in her lap like a shield. They didn’t say anything to each other. Her dad simply pulled off the curb and drove.  
  
“How was your weekend?” he finally asked.  
  
Wheein shrugged.  
  
“Did you have fun at Hyejin’s?”  
  
Another shrug.  
  
She saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. His thumb kept rubbing at his chin. It was a nervous gesture. Wheein felt her heart race. She knew what was coming next but she wasn’t prepared for-  
  
“Wheein, what you saw-”  
  
“I didn’t see anything,” she said too quickly, syllables tripping over one another.  
  
She felt his eyes on her, but he didn’t say anything more.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
That’s how things went on.  
  
One day. Two. There. Seven. A week. Two weeks.  
  
Wheein held her father's secret.  
  
“Has he said anything?” asked Hyejin one day at school. There were bags under her eyes like she hadn’t slept much. She’d looked like that a lot lately.  
  
“No.” She wanted to ask why Hyejin looked so tired but the bell rang and they had to return from lunch.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She came home to find her dad getting dressed again. That’s when Wheein noticed a pattern. When her mother was out late, he’d suit up and go out. She felt stupid for never noticing before. She felt gross knowing where he was going. She felt a crushing amount of weight holding all of it inside. She just wanted to scream. To get away. To run from all of this.  
  
Ducking her head, Wheein tried to slip into her room but her father called her. When she didn’t respond he came to her door.  
  
“Hey, puppy. Are you doing alright?”  
  
That was weird. He didn’t normally ask things like that thought he’d done it a lot lately. Wheein saw right through it. He only cared now because she knew. He only cared now because he knew Wheein held his fate in her hands and it was getting to him.  
  
“Do you love us?”  
  
He blinked, taken aback by the question. “Of course I love you, pup.”  
  
Wheein scoffed. What a pitiful form of love.  
  
Wheein shut the door.  
  
He never tried to talk to her about it again.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The creek didn’t seem to hold its usual serenity.  
  
Wheein stood on the edge, tossing rocks at the water while Hyejin sat on the ground, shoes, and socks off so the waters lapped up at her toes. Nothing felt right. It felt like there was a fog around them, dampening the rejuvenating quality that the creek used to hold.  
  
Wheein couldn’t figure out why.  
  
“How can you still love him?” asked Hyejin.  
  
Wheein watched a rock skip across the water. “He’s my dad.”  
  
“Don’t you think it’s weird?”  
  
Wheein looked down at her but Hyejin was staring at the water. She didn’t know a lot about love. That was a thing adults told her she’d fully understand when she was older. One time someone told her you knew you loved something because it made your heart feel like pieces of glass when someone hurt you.  
  
Wheein felt that about her dad. She felt that about her mom. She felt it about Hyejin.  
  
“What’s weird about it?”  
  
“I thought when people loved you they weren’t supposed to hurt you.”  
  
Wheein shrugged. “But we still love them, right?”  
  
“Yeah. I guess so.” Hyejin pulled on her hand until Wheein was seated on the water’s edge with her. She kept their hands together, cradling them in her lap. “I’d never hurt you.”  
  
“Me neither.”  
  
And suddenly....everything felt okay.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Until the world fell apart.  
  
The house smelled of food. Wheein thought it was her imagination but her imagination wasn’t  _this_  good. Getting up, she went to investigate and stopped short of the door at what she found. Her mother moved around the kitchen, putting sides into dishes and placing them on the table.  
  
“There you are,” she said, scooping out rice. “Help me set the table.”  
  
There was just the two of them so Wheein set places for two and climbed into a chair. Wheein didn’t remember the last time she ate dinner with her mother. Eating at the table wasn’t enforced at their home like it was at the Ahn’s and eating together was a rare occasion when her parents worked weird hours. These moments were far and few between and the fact it was happening right now created an odd combination of emotions inside of Wheein. She didn’t know whether to be happy or off put by it.  
  
“Good?”  
  
“Mhm,” Wheein answered, shoveling food into her mouth. She always wondered how her mother learned to be such a good cook when she hardly did it.  
  
“How’s school?”  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
“And Hyejin?”  
  
Wheein tried to suppress her blush but her mind jumped to Hyejin saying she’d kiss her. Even if it was a joke it still got to her. “She’s good. How’s work?”  
  
Her mother smiled. Wheein noticed it was the first smile she’d given since she found her in the kitchen. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that.” She scooped another dollop or rice into Wheein’s bowl. She ate it happily. She liked this. Moments like this made her forget how disjointed things were. “Will you help me clean up?”  
  
Getting up, Wheein stacked dishes to take to the sink just as the front door opening sounded through the house.  
  
Her mother went rigid beside her. “Wheein, go to your room.”  
  
“But the dishes-”  
  
“I’ll finish,” she snipped. “Go to your room. Don’t you have homework?”  
  
Wheein got as far as around the corner when she heard her mother’s voice turn to ice.  
  
“Where have you been?”  
  
Wheein hovered in the hall, just shy of the doorframe. She could see the shadows of her parents cast on the wall before her as they moved around.  
  
“You know I work late on Thursdays.”  
  
“Do you still expect me to believe that?”  
  
“I’m telling you the truth.”  
  
There was silence. The floorboards creaked with the weight of her father's steps followed by the refrigerator door opening.  
  
“How could you bring her here?” her mother hissed.  
  
Her father straightened out. The fridge suctioned shut. Wheein looked around the corner just as he turned to face her mother.  
  
“Who are you talking about?”  
  
“I found this in the trash.” There was a square, plastic wrapper in her mom’s fingers. Wheein wasn’t sure what it was but she knew it was something that shouldn't have been found. Something she shouldn't have seen. “How could you bring her here!”  
  
“I didn’t-”  
  
The slap shut him up. Wheein gasped.  
  
Her mother snapped her neck in the direction of the sound. She tried to hide the wrapper from view but it was too late. Wheein had seen and heard too much.  
  
“I said go to your room, Wheein.”  
  
Her father turned to her. His jaw was set, but when he saw Wheein he faltered. Wheein started back at him. There was a secret only they knew. The fact her mother didn’t actually know who had been in the house made her stomach hurt. The way her father was looking at her made her eyes sting. She didn’t want to be there anymore. She didn’t want to be part of this any longer.  
  
“Can I go to Hyejin’s? We have a project...” she trailed off before her voice would crack. She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep it from trembling. She didn’t want them to see her cry. If they did, they’d rush to her and coddle her and apologize to her and try to make things better. Wheein hated it if only because she knew these words were temporary and they’d be back here again.  
  
“It’s late-”  
  
“Let her go,” her mother interrupted. Her body fell into a kitchen chair as if her body weighed a thousand tons and waved a dismissive hand to her daughter. “Go on. Check in later.”  
  
Ducking her head, Wheein walked passed the kitchen, slipped on her shoes at the door, and left.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein hit the buzzer.  
  
“Wheein?” Hyejin’s dad answered. He looked a little caught off guard but that was the last thing on Wheein’s mind.  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
“It’s a school night. Is everything okay? It’s late.”  
  
“I know, I just needed to see Hyejin about something.”  
  
He stroked his chin. “Oh, alright. She’s in her room.”  
  
Wheein slipped past his legs and inside. The closer she drew to Hyejin’s room, the harder it was to hold back her tears. She didn’t knock when she reached the door. She pushed into the room in tearful desperation. Hyejin sat up fast, terror on her face. When she saw it was Wheein, the fear turned into confusion.  
  
“Wheein?”  
  
She climbed onto the bed wordlessly and into Hyejin. Arms grabbed her without question, wrapping around her tight and secure. Wheein buried her face in Hyejin’s chest, letting her tears soak into her shirt. She tried not to let out a sob, but she couldn't help it. It ripped out of her throat and shook her entire body. Hyejin only gripped her tighter, hand running up and down her back.  
  
Wheein didn’t know how long she cried. She just knew that her head had started to hurt and her body had grown stiff. Hyejin still held her, body curved around her where she lay balled up on her side, hidden in Hyejin’s chest. She wished she could go inside of it. Instead, she was stuck here in this reality.  
  
“I hate him,” Wheein muttered. If she spoke any louder, she thought she might start screaming. “I hate him and I hate it here.”  
  
“Me, too,” Hyejin muttered back. Wheein wasn’t sure if she was speaking about Wheein or herself. Something about it, the far off, twisted edge in her voice, sounded much too personal.  
  
Wheein drew up her head just as Hyejin rolled over to grab something off the side table and brought it back. It was the flier. “Let’s audition,” said Hyejin. All jokes aside. “If we get in, we’ll have to go Seoul and train at the company. We won’t have to be here anymore.”  
  
“Seoul is far.”  
  
“It would be better than here, right?”  
  
Wheein only nodded. She imagined being away from home, from familiarity, from her parents that never stopped their arguing, from lies, from heartache. “Where will we live?”  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe in a dorm.”  
  
“A dorm?”  
  
“Yeah, they have those. A lot of idols live in dorms.”  
  
It was sounding better but there were other matters - other practical things to take into consideration. “Doesn’t it cost money?”  
  
“Jung Wheein.” She stopped at her full name. The look on Hyejin’s face was so serious. “Do you trust me?”  
  
With her life. With her life and so much more though Wheein wasn’t sure what that more was but she could feel it someplace deep and someplace unmistakeable. “Yes.”  
  
“Okay,” was all Hyejin said. “We can record something together and send it. My dad has an old camcorder and I think I saw tapes in a drawer.”  
  
“You’re serious? You really want to do this?”  
  
“I’d do anything to be somewhere better.”  
  
Wheein stilled. Yes. Yes, it would be better than this. “I...Hyejin, this is a lot.”  
  
She huffed a frustrated sigh and dropped onto the bed in defeat. “Whatever, we might not even get in.”  
  
She was right about that. They might not even get in but they could try. They could stop dreaming about running away and treehouses and visiting creeks and actually get away. They could actually do something that could be fun and separated from the demons and the chains that were tethering them to this place.  
  
The idea sounded terrifying. An idol? Wheein watched them on TV sometimes. They were everywhere, all eyes on them, little privacy, a lot of work, but they were somebodies. Wheein had never dreamt of anything so worthwhile. She never thought she could do something that extreme. But thinking about doing it with Hyejin, knowing Hyejin would be with her, that they’d be able to escape and do it together made all the difference.  
  
“Okay, let’s do it.”  
  
Hyejin’s jaw dropped.”Really?”  
  
“Yeah, why not? Let’s live in a dorm.”  
  
Hyejin grinned and it was so blinding and full that Wheein felt like bursting. “You can’t back out.”  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
Hyejin kissed her palm and extended her hand to Wheein. “Promise?”  
  
Wheein looked down at the hand waiting for hers. They hadn’t done this childish vow in a long time. The first time was when Hyejin made Wheein promise her that she’d always come to her when she was sad. It was easy to make the promise then. There was no one else Wheein would want to or could run to than Hyejin.  
  
There was no one else she had except Hyejin.  
  
She wouldn’t have it any other way. Because in Hyejin she knew she found a type of safety and love that she never had to question.  
  
Kissing her own palm, she gripped Hyejin’s and shook. “Promise.”


	2. Garnet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garnet’s fiery red shade is said to be symbolic of passion, inspiration, love and romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Mention of sexual abuse.

“Wheein!”  
  
“Huh?” she mumbled half asleep.   
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“We’re going to be late!”  
  
A hand gripped her and pulled. Wheein was up. Her feet were moving. The world around her was a disjointed haze, vision glassy and eyes stinging against offending sunlight. Bodies jostled her, bumping from left and right. A hard drop shocked her into attention and she tumbled out of the bus and hit the pavement behind Hyejin in a whirlwind fully awake. Crap. They were going to be late!  
  
“Hyejin, hurry!”  
  
“Shut up and run.”  
  
They weaved through sidewalk traffic. Wheein held the strap of her gym bag to keep it from bouncing roughly against her side. The bus stop wasn’t that far from the company but everything seemed miles away when time was winding down. They shouldn’t have stopped for those crepes after school. Humiliation at weight checks wasn't worth it but, _oh,_  were they delicious.   
  
Her foot clipped one of the steps that led up to the entrance. Hyejin yanked her upright and Wheein blessed her like the Saint Maria for saving her from busting her face on the pavement. Stitches left nasty scars and her face was already subpar to the other trainees. How could anyone be that pretty? It was unreal.   
  
Racing through the door, they slowed to a fast walk. Running was frowned upon indoors. Running was reserved for punishments. Punishments like being late or missing training. The company had a strict tardy policy and an even harsher attendance one. It was supposed to teach them the importance of deadlines and punctuality. Wheein agreed, it was good practice, but /hell. Could they catch a break?  
  
Rushing into the restroom, they changed out of uniforms, into practice gear, stuffed it into gym bags, and rushed off toward the practice room they were to report.   
  
Necks swiveled their way when they entered. There were eleven trainee girls inside. Not all of the faces inside had been there as long as them and even less there before them. The trainee system liked to take little girls (and boys) into their jaws, grind them down, spit out the weak while the others were digested and dropped out into what they hoped was a debut.   
  
The prospect of a debut was one of the only things that made Wheein keep coming. Well, that, and a promise she made when she was eleven to always be at Hyejin’s side.   
  
“Ahn Hyejin, Jung Wheein,” the instructor read their names and checked them off on a clipboard. “I’ll see you after practice.”  
  
Some of the girls smirked, others whispered, some gave them sympathetic looks.   
  
“Yes, ma’am,” they both chorused, took places on the floor and began stretching with the others.   
  
Practices had never gone by so fast. At the end, Wheein stood against the wall with Hyejin shoulder with her as the other girls left.   
  
The instructor handed them a key. “I want these rooms spotless. All of them.”  
  
Retrieving the cleaning equipment from the closest, they got to work.   
  
After an hour, Wheein’s knees hurt and her fingers were pruney. They were on two of four practice rooms they had to clean. It was better than cleaning the weight room that stunk of stale sweat and had a bunch of machines with hard to reach crannies.   
  
“This is your fault,” Hyejin grumbled. Strands of shoulder length hair had escaped the bonds of a ponytail and brushed at her cheeks in black wisps.   
  
Wheein fixed her own hair back. It was getting long but she couldn’t be bothered to cut it. “How is it my fault?”  
  
“I took the blame last time.” Wheein sucked her teeth. Having detention was one hundred percent Hyejin’s fault. Wheein flung water off her sponge. Hyejin squealed. “I could get tetanus!”  
  
“No, you couldn’t.”  
  
Hyejin flung a handful of water at her face.   
  
“Do you want to die!” She grabbed the sponge and reeled it back like a grenade. Hyejin begged for mercy but Wheein didn’t give it.   
  
She never could get the putrid smell of dirty water out of her clothes.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
It was late when they finally left the company. Catching the bus, they rode home in a heap of exhaustion, bodies slack in their seats and spirits shot.   
  
Wheein didn’t even want to move by the time they got to their stop. She used the last of her strength to shoulder her bag and make the trek to her aunt's. Staying with her aunt was convenient. It was homey. Private. Less money than it would’ve been if they rested on the company to house them. Wheein didn’t think her parents - her mom - cared that much as long as she was being taken care of better than she would be able to alone. As for Hyejin’s parents, they’d look at loan costs later.   
  
The apartment was quiet when they got inside. Wheein’s aunt went to bed early because of her work schedule. There was a note on each of their doors letting them know food was waiting for them in the fridge. Wheein’s stomach grumbled but she was too tired to eat.   
  
Flicking on a lamp, she dropped her bag on the floor. Another followed and two bodies fell onto her bed. She drank in the scent of freshly cleaned bedsheets. Homesickness was like an incurable virus that sprang up at the most unlikely of moments but living here had its perks. Lavender breeze was one of them.   
  
Hyejin yawned. “I love this but I’m tired.”  
  
“Me, too.” It was a surprise, really.   
  
The fact they came up with the idea when they were eleven, left home at twelve, and were living it out for the last five-plus years was still mind-boggling to her. Wheein didn’t think she would actually fall in love with the idea of being an idol no matter how hit or miss it was. It gave them something to aim for, something to do, something that could turn them from a pair of riffraff Jeonju girls into people who mattered.   
  
So she hoped.  
  
She had never done anything where she wanted to succeed so badly. But this? This was it. Maybe because she wanted to prove to herself that it was worth it. Remembering where she came from, the parents she left back in Jeonju, the heartache she left there when she packed, the brokenness she laid to rest in that place made it worth it. It made her keep going because she had to make it. Going backward was not an option. Going backward was one of her biggest fears. There was nothing left for her there but a broken little girl.   
  
“I feel so gross.” Hyejin groaned. “Do you want to shower together?”  
  
“Cleanse yourself, you fart.” Wheein smashed her hand into Hyejin’s face, pushing her away. “And don’t clog the drain with your hair!”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Settling into a practice room, Wheein pulled out her guitar. The company made them focus on an individual talent along with song and dance training. It was supposed to branch them into different facets to further sharpen them into performers. There was a lot to pick from, like modeling and entertainment. Hyejin took up acting lessons while Wheein chose music composition that required a basic knowledge of various instruments.  
  
The load steadily become easier to manage. It only took five years, but Wheein felt like she was getting the hang of the erratic schedule. It kept her busy. Kept her focused. It gave her something to build and to aim for.   
  
The sheet music on the stand went ignored in favor of Wheein’s music journal. She scribbled new chords in and erased those she didn’t like. She wasn’t that good at making up lyrics like others were but she had something for music itself. She found a way to express herself through it. It filled her with the same sensation she felt years back on that wooden, amphitheater stage. Making up music was an escape and she embraced it.   
  
A gentle buzz went off in her pocket and she pulled out her phone. The number on the screen had no name. Just digits. Digits that tried reaching her before. She let the call go to voicemail just as Hyejin poked her head into the room, script in hand. She rolled it up and stuffed it into her back pocket.   
  
“I thought that was you.” Closing the door, she folded her arms around Wheein’s neck from behind and rested her head against hers. “What’re you working on?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Is it yours?” she reached for the journal.   
  
She tried to snatch it before grabby hands could. “Don’t-“  
  
“I want to hear.”  
  
Wheein made a noise of protest.   
  
“You never let me listen.” Grabbing her journal, Hyejin set it on the stand. “Play me something.”  
  
“Okay, but after this, I really need to practice.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.”  
  
Wheein sighed. Setting her fingers, she strummed. She wished there were lyrics, but the music spoke for itself. She played through the song, body rocking with Hyejin still attached to her back. There was something intimate about having Hyejin that close while she played music she wrote like deep dark thoughts scrawled in a diary. She felt oddly exposed. Like Hyejin could read her deepest parts - the parts even she held inside from her best friend.  
  
“You’re so good,” Hyejin breathed, voice low and raspy in her ear, once the song was over. Wheein’s skin erupted in goosebumps. “Can you play more?”  
  
“Uh…” Wheein flipped over a few pages and landed on an old tune. She wrote it during her first year. There were pen scratches and revisions everywhere. “This one isn’t that good-”  
  
“Shh.” Lips brushed along her ear. Wheein’s breath hitched. A hand guided hers back to the neck of the guitar and set it where it needed to be. “Just play.”  
  
Wheein swallowed. The room was hot. Her hand had gone clammy from a spout of nerves that simmered through her but she played through them. Eyes fluttered shut and she smiled when Hyejin began to hum, voice easily finding the right key and notes. She added on another layer, matching the emotions Wheein meant to convey.   
  
Lips touched at her neck, whispering random words too soft to understand. Wheein’s head dropped back against Hyejin’s shoulder. The vibration of her humming and low singing tickled against her skin, igniting heat in her chest. The color of her dark, syrupy voice made her stomach weightless and her brain foggy. She almost forgot the chords to her own song and was thankful she was on the last strum.  
  
She let the notes ring through the practice room and fade away until there was nothing but her heavy breathing and Hyejin’s heart thunderous in her chest.   
  
“We’ll have a song together one day,” said Hyejn. She stood up, hands lazily unwinding and running across Wheein’s chest. Fingers held onto her shoulders where they landed, freezing Wheein in place with her neck craned back to look up into those steady eyes. There was a darkness to them. Something that matched the sting at the base of Wheein’s stomach. “You’ll write one for me, right?”  
  
“Yeah.” She’d write a thousand more songs to the hundreds she already wrote. Songs she already wrote about her past and her present all of which included Hyejin.   
  
A hand lifted to stroke along Wheein’s neck. It would’ve meant nothing if the atmosphere wasn’t so charged. Wheein saw Hyejin note the same and she pulled away. “I’m going back to practice,” she said suddenly.  
  
Wheein couldn’t touch her guitar for a few minutes after that. Not until her body stopped sizzling.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
All reviews were hard.   
  
Dance reviews were some of the worst.   
  
They went up in groups of three and were graded on a point scale. Eight and up was good. Five and below was bad and often came with added practice hours. The first couple year, Wheein always found herself in the bottom. Coming from a place where being an idol was a far-fetched idea, she had a lot to learn. Because the risk of being sent home was so high, she made sure to learn fast.   
  
“Jung Wheein,” her name was called with two others.   
  
She stood to the left of the center girl and waited for the music to start. Stage fright was something Wheein had to work on the most. She remembered the first few months of stumbling and fumbling and near vomiting when she had to do anything in front of one of the instructors and even more so in front of a room full of trainees.  
  
She wasn’t used to being the center of attention. She was the kind of person who skated on the outskirts, drew little attention to herself, and remained out of sight. Even now, as she went through the routine, counting beats and recalling steps in her head, she disliked it. She didn’t think she’d ever really like it but she learned to get used to it. She learned how to choke the fear and keep it in control until she was finished.  
  
“Jung Wheein, nine.”   
  
Nine?  
  
The trainees clapped. Wheein returned to her spot on the floor, watching other groups go until Hyejin was called up.   
  
Wheein was envious of Hyejin’s natural ability to just do it. She took center and she put her all into the routine, but Hyejin wasn’t like anyone else. She had a style of her own. A groove of her own. A charm of her own. Wheein always thought it was cool. She was captivated by her friend’s aura, but it wasn’t in the taste of the others.   
  
“Ahn Hyejin, four,” said one of the instructors. No one said anything. “Can you hear the tempo? You’re continuously offbeat. Your moves have to match the others. You’re not a solo artist. Learn to keep your head up.”  
  
“Thank you.” She bowed and took a seat.   
  
When they were dismissed, Hyejin rushed out of the room. Wheein tried to follow her, but she was lost in the flurry of trainees returning to their various activities.   
  
It wasn’t long until she found her in a restroom stall. Wheein knocked on it.  
  
“Go away.”  
  
“It’s me.”  
  
”So?”  
  
Dropping to her knees, she crawled beneath the door. “Hey.”  
  
“I hope you get an infection for that.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes and leaned her back against the stall, knees pulled up to her chest where she remained on the floor. She didn’t care about how dirty the floor was, she just cared that Hyejin was crying. It was strange. When they were younger, it was Wheein who did most of the crying. The tables had flipped and now Wheein was the one holding strength for them.   
  
“You weren’t supposed to be better than me,” Hyejin croaked. “This was my idea.”   
  
“You can’t be good at everything.”  
  
Hyejin glared but it held no sting. Reaching out, she waited for Wheein to take her hand and threaded their fingers together once she finally did. Wheein held on. That’s all she needed to do.   
  
There were days that sucked and sucked hard. Days Wheein wanted to quit. Days when Hyejin apologized for making her go through with that crazy idea she plucked off a pinboard. Sometimes Wheein even cursed her for it, too, but they both knew there was no going back.   
  
They made a promise and they’d stick to it. The only reason they could, as far as what Wheein knew, was each other. They were in it together. It was all they had - each other. Living with an aunt Wheein barely knew, in a foreign city, doing something so unlike them, the amount they relied on each other was more than before.  
  
But Wheein would have if no other way.   
  
“Do you want to go practice?” she asked once Hyejin’s tears dried up.  
  
“I want to eat ramyun.”  
  
Wheein grinned. That sounded like a better idea.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“Do you ever miss home?”  
  
The room was dark save for the soft glow of a nightlight behind the dresser. They decided to take up Hyejin’s bed that night, stomachs full of warm ramyun and soda. She had posters all over the wall. Faces of singers and actors and inspirations. It was a lot different from the cartoon and flower stuff she had in her room back in Jeonju. It showed how much she’d changed but not really. Where she wanted her life to lead was different, that’s all. Wheein could relate. So the question Hyejin just asked made her stomach do a flutter and then plummet.   
  
“Sometimes,” she answered into the night.   
  
The first year of training, Wheein wanted to go back. When she remembered it wouldn’t be any easier there than here, she sucked it up and let it go. Now she was in love with what she was doing. Going back was a far away thought but there were moments.   
  
“I miss the food. Things taste different here.”  
  
“I miss normal clothes.”  
  
Hyejin laughed. Fashion was different in Seoul. She never put thought into what she wore until now. The company wanted them to think about it, too. Fans were obsessed with things like airport fashion. She’d have to learn some style.   
  
“At least we have this.”  
  
“Huh?” An arm curled around her stomach and thighs pressed against the back of hers, cradling her neatly into Hyejin. “Oh.”  
  
“You smell like home.” Hyejin pressed her nose into Wheein’s hair and took a breath. Wheein shivered. “Turn over I want to look at you.”  
  
Wheein shifted around until she faced Hyejin. Her hand was snatched up by another and held under Hyejin’s chin right against her chest. She could feel her heart beating.   
  
“Thank you for coming here with me,” said Hyejin. It had been a while since she thanked her though Wheein told her it was unnecessary. Following Hyejin was the easiest decision to make.   
  
“I couldn’t be here without you.”  
  
Her eyebrows lifted. “You don’t regret it, do you?”   
  
“No. Do you?”  
  
“Not anymore. I have you.”  
  
Wheein’s skin turned ablaze. They’d grown closer since training. Perhaps it was because they only had each other but being apart was strange now. At home, at school, or the company. They stuck together. Sharing a bed like this was easier when they lived under the same roof and Wheein found they liked it better that way.   
  
“Don’t forget our promise.”  
  
Wheein frowned because how could Hyejin think she could do such a thing? “How could I live without you?”  
  
Hyejin’s mouth parted in the slightest form of surprise. Wheein thought it was obvious that she’d follow Hyejin to the ends of the earth if she asked her to do so. Maybe that was a bad thing but Wheein couldn’t help it. She was stuck. She belonged to Hyejin in ways she couldn’t describe or fully express.   
  
Unshed tears shined in Hyejin’s eyes like crystals. She touched Wheein’s face with a soft caress, stroking across her cheek and under her chin, tilting it up slightly. Eyes dipped to her mouth and Wheein couldn’t look at her anymore. Not when their hearts were so open and she was on the verge of saying more than need be.   
  
Curling up, Wheein buried her head in Hyejin’s chest. Arms held her like always and lips touched the top of her hair. “Thank you.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein was running behind getting to the practice room. Her music lessons went longer than normal. She held a note from the instructor in hand with an intermediate piano book and her guitar on her back.   
  
When she got to the room, she was surprised to see the dance instructor wasn’t there. Trainees were spread around the practice room, some doing stretches, others going over dance steps, another texting by the mirrors. Wheein found Hyejin eating a carrot stick toward the back.   
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
“No one's come yet.”  
  
That was odd. Discarding her stuff, Wheein sat down to start stretching. It would only be a matter of time until-  
  
The door swung open. Attention reverted toward the new body in the room. It wasn’t their instructor. It was another staff member. One they didn’t see much of as trainees but one that spent a lot of time with the already debuted acts. They had a clipboard in hand. All fell quiet when they reached the front of the room.   
  
“Listen carefully,” they said and began to list off names. Wheein’s name came third while Hyejin’s came sixth. Second to last. “If your name was not called, please report to practice room C.”  
  
No one questioned what was going on. They did as they were told. Wheein stayed put, eyes glancing to Hyejin while the others began to pack up and go. Once they were gone, the staff spoke again.   
  
“From here forward, the seven of you will train together as a unit. Your assignments will be expanded and doubled. There will be no room for error.”  
  
“A unit like a group?” asked one of the girls.   
  
There was a soft upward tug at the corner of the staff’s mouth. “I suggest you put more focus on your training.” Their eyes cut to Hyejin who looked down at her shoes knowingly. “You’re done for the day.”  
  
Once they left, the room lit up with questions and comments.   
  
“Are we going to debut?”  
  
“With seven? Isn’t that too many?”  
  
“What do they mean assignments are being expanded?”  
  
“I can’t believe this!”  
  
All of their voices blurred together into white noise. Wheein was too busy looking over at Hyejin, their mirrored shock meeting in one huge clash of disbelief.   
  
They were in a unit together.   
  
They were going to debut together.   
  
“We did it.” Wheein mouthed more than said. She feared she’d start sobbing if she said anything else. Arms captured her, crushing her into that familiar body. She hugged Hyejin back, arms so tight it was hard to breathe. There were tears dripping down her face combing with Hyejin’s own.   
  
“We did it,” Hyejin echoed. “We did it, we did it, we did it!”  
  
They were finally going to be somebody.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Her hands were shaking so bad it took forever for Wheein to get her phone unlocked and the number punched to call her mom. The line rang and rang and rang. Wheein started to get anxious.   
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Mom!”  
  
“Wheein? Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m okay. I-“ she paused to catch her breath. She was still reeling from the news. She could hear Hyejin talking to her own parents in her own room, loud and animated. Wheein smiles. “I was assigned a unit today.”  
  
“A unit?”  
  
“A group. We’ll debut together.”  
  
“That’s amazing, Wheein! Hyejin, too?”  
  
“Yeah.” Wheein bit her lip. It still didn't sound real to her yet.   
  
They sat in the practice room for half an hour in excited tears and jumping up and down and screaming and calling parents and relatives about the news. No one could believe it. Wheein couldn’t believe it.  
  
“We don’t know when it will be yet.”  
  
“You’ve been patient enough.”  
  
She had. five years of training. five long years without hint of gain. The news hit her like a slap. She was buzzing all over. Tingly and warm.   
  
“Don’t forget your mom when you’re famous.”  
  
“I won’t.” No matter what the past held, her mother was still her mother.   
  
Ending the call, Wheein paced. She couldn’t sit still. She wanted to tell someone else. Scrolling through her contacts, she found the nameless number at the bottom of the list. Her thumb hovered over it. The warm, fuzzy tingles turned into pins and needles. She hadn’t dialed that number in a long time. She hadn’t wanted to. But this was something to share, right?   
  
She let the line ring. Once. Twice. Three times.   
  
“Wheein!” Hyejin came through the door.   
  
She hung up.   
  
“What?”  
  
“Your aunt says she’ll take us out anywhere we want to celebrate.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Let’s go.” A hand grabbed her, pulling her from her room.   
  
She let the phone vibrate in her pocket.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Practices were grueling.   
  
Vocal training increased. There were talks of choosing the main and lead vocalist as well as a rapper. Wheein had never been very confident in her voice, but the instructors were asking more from her, stretching her, pushing her.   
  
Music lessons were lessened and tacked on with variety workshops and modeling techniques that would better them at being in front of cameras and in interviews. Her individual skill was still important but there was heavy stress on the fact that they weren’t working to be a musical group. They would be an idol unit. Instruments were unnecessary.   
  
Dance practices became streamline and more critical. A main dancer was important, being put into the back was blow at confidence, being out of synch was unacceptable. Wheein found this the easiest to keep up with and spent hours after release helping Hyejin to stay caught up.   
  
She felt bad for the newer girls. They struggled the most while the ones who’d been there three plus years found a way to adjust, grit their teeth, and fight through the pain and insomnia because the dream of standing on a stage in front of fans with lights and effects and cameras was just in reach.   
  
“Okay!” called the dance instructor, clapping his hands together once the music stopped. “We’ll continue after lunch.”  
  
The girls chorused a response. They waited for him to exit the practice room before hurrying off to grab water bottles and lunches. No one cared to leave for food. They only had forty-five minutes and breaks were precious jewels not to be wasted on tiresome trips.  
  
Wheein drank gulps of water down. She was sweaty and her hair was a mess. The reflection she saw of herself in the wall mirrors was unflattering but she’d grown used to seeing herself looking like a wreck. Not even the prettiest trainee looked good after such an intense dance rehearsal.   
  
“Here,” said Hyejin. She handed Wheein her sorry excuse for a lunch and took a seat next to her.   
  
She opened the container to rice and eggs and kimchi. With the new set of training came a new diet plan. Weight checks for them were more frequent considering they had a set goal to reach. No one knew exactly when they would make a debut. The dates were still on the table and their unit could change from now until then. That left very little room for mistake and everyone pushed harder knowing that at any moment they could be told good news or bad news.  
  
“Truth or dare!” One of the trainees called out to another girl suddenly. Practice room games weren’t uncommon. They helped pass the time on the more tiresome days.   
  
The girl groaned. “This again?”  
  
“It’s fun!” said the first.   
  
“No, it’s not. I don’t want to play.”  
  
“I do!” piped a girl who always wore her hair in two, long pretty braids.   
  
Hyejin waved a hand. “Me, too.”  
  
The distance between them condensed so they made one blob in the center of the = room. Wheein sat slightly behind Hyejin to keep herself from being too noticeable. She didn’t really like games like this. They were too intrusive and risky. The girl who started the game justified playing as a bonding experience. That,  
  
“If we’re going to be together we should get to know each other more.”  
  
Heads bobbed in nods of agreement. Wheein silently chewed on a hard-boiled egg, mind stuck on what the girl said. They were going to all be together and for who knew how long? The only person Wheein had known for most of her life was Hyejin. Thinking about having other girls, others who shared the same experience, relied on each other, and were always there, was exciting and scary at the same time.   
  
“Hyejin,” a trainee from Gwangju said after they had gone through other rounds. “Truth or dare?”  
  
“Truth,” Hyejin said, confidently.   
  
The girls giggled. “Who and when was your first kiss?”  
  
“That’s too easy!”  
  
“That’s lame!”  
  
“Ask something else!”  
  
Hyejin swallowed a spoonful of rice. “Before any of you.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“C’mon, you’re like twelve.”  
  
“It couldn’t be before her.” Braids jutted her chin to another. Everyone knew she had her first boy experience when she was ten. Everyone thought she was cool. Some even said she would probably be their leader. Her charismatic smile and the nonchalant toss of her hair at the address definitely made her feel like a superior.   
  
Hyejin smirked. “Wanna bet?”  
  
“Stop playing around.”  
  
“Just tell us.”  
  
Hyejin waved a hand as she sipped from a carton of strawberry milk. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”  
  
“Was he cute?” Gwangju leaned forward, chin rested on her fist.   
  
Hyejin shrugged.   
  
The Leader leaned back on her hands. “Was he older?”  
  
It was subtle but Hyejin’s shoulders tightened. “Maybe.”  
  
The room erupted. Gwangju said she was lying, another said she was always playing jokes on them, Braids told her to stop trying to be cool.   
  
Hyejin laughed but it was forced. “See? You wouldn’t believe me.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“We should start cleaning up,” someone said, head motioning to the clock.   
  
The girls groaned and started to get up, tossing trash away.   
  
Hyejin caught Wheein staring. “What?”  
  
“You have food in your teeth,” she said instead of all the questions in her head.   
  
Hyejin threw a ball of foul at her face. “Shut up.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Later that night, in the safety of Wheein’s room, she asked her.   
  
“Why wouldn’t you tell them your first kiss?”  
  
Hyejin’s brow furrowed as she took off a towel from her shower-damp hair. “Why do you need to know?”  
  
“I don’t. I was just…” She wanted to say that it was because they were best friends who told each other everything but Wheein knew that wasn’t true. She never told Hyejin the truth about her father amongst other things she was too embarrassed to even remember herself. “Never mind. I’m going to shower.”  
  
When she got out, Hyejin was still in her room, hair dried and pajamas on. She stared up at Wheein as if she were caught in the act. “Can I stay?”  
  
“Yeah.” Relaxing, Hyejin settled back into Wheein’s bed, pulling the covers up to her waist. Wheein crawled in with her, keeping a space between them. “Good night I guess.”  
  
“Night.”  
  
Wheein turned onto her side facing away from her. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. It didn’t. She didn’t like going to sleep with bad vibes between them but she didn’t know how to fix that which was a pain because she just wanted to-  
  
“I think I was five,” said Hyejin, interrupting her thoughts. Silence dragged on a few more beats before Hyejin spoke again. “Mom says I dreamt it but I know it wasn’t.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Because that wasn’t the last time my dad did it.” Wheein froze. She turned to face Hyejin but she was staring up at the ceiling unmoving. She closed her eyes with a wince as if she were in pain. “Say something, please.”   
  
Wheein never heard or saw her so terrified. There were so many things in her head to ask but none seemed appropriate when she saw how vulnerable Hyejin was at the moment.   
  
“I...I didn’t know.”  
  
How didn’t she know? How didn’t she see it? How had that slipped her by when she was always there? Wheein felt sick to her stomach.   
  
“I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how,” Hyejin whispered. “I thought it would stop but it kept getting worse and all I wanted to do was run away.” Hyejin bit her lip to keep it from shivering. “I wanted to tell you so bad.”  
  
Suddenly things clicked into place. The uncharacteristic strain between Hyejin and her father, the malice in her voice when she talked about Wheein’s father, her push to want to get away and go into training. It was all because of that. Hyejin’s world was falling apart just as hers was. Hyejin needed an escape as much as she did. Hyejin was barely hanging on same as she had.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Wheein muttered but it felt too little. It didn’t seem like enough to offer knowing the betrayal Hyejin must’ve felt - probably still felt.   
  
Hyejin choked out a sardonic laugh. “I thought something was wrong with me because I hated it and then-” she sat up suddenly. “-do you remember when you teased me about Cheoljoo?”   
  
“Yeah.” Wheein’s mouth dropped. “You…”  
  
“I hated it with him, too.”  
  
Wheein rose up to match her. “You never told me any of this!”  
  
Guilt washed over Hyejin’s face. “I was confused.”  
  
“About what?”   
  
Lips were on hers and taken away quicker than Wheein could register.   
  
“About that.”  
  
Wheein stared. Her mind was slow to process the damp, tingly feeling on her mouth to the girl sitting in front of her to her brain. Systems were failing, leaving her dumbfounded and internally screaming. Hyejin began to pull away. Wheein acted on impulse, hand grabbing her wrist to hold her in place. The skin beneath her fingers felt like fire but she didn’t let go.   
  
“I…” She couldn’t get the words out. They stopped, choked off in her throat. How could she say it? How could she even express what she was feeling in simple words? Everything was rushing into her like a tidal wave. “Hyejin, I...You- I-”  
  
Hyejin looked her straight in the eye. “Prove it.”  
  
It was an odd thing to say because Wheein couldn’t prove the past. She couldn’t pull her thoughts and memories out like a film reel and show Hyejin everything she felt back then. She couldn’t explain every moment that Hyejin made her skin hot and her stomach weightless when she hadn’t completely understood it back then. But what she could do was solidify the present.   
  
So she did.   
  
She leaned in and brought their lips together. Hyejin kissed her back.   
  
Years worth of emotions erupted. The gates of Wheein’s heart flew open and she reached out, grabbing Hyejin’s face in her hands to help steady the kiss and herself. She was all nerves and feelings and jitters but it felt so... _good._  It felt terrifying and good.   
  
It felt unreal.   
  
But Hyejin was real and the kiss was real.   
  
Hyejin bit back, lips bruising in their force. Wheein’s back hit the mattress and she pulled Hyejin into her so their bodies were pressed together, heat sharing heat, and heart beating hearts, collided into one.   
  
Breath tangled in pants and arms reached out, crushing Hyejin closer. She didn’t want to let her go. She didn’t want to stop kissing her.   
  
So she didn’t.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The morning was weird.   
  
Wheein woke up in her own bed in a panic of bewilderment.   
  
Last night she...Hyejin...they-  
  
_Oh my god._  
  
Scrambling out of bed, she walked to the door to go to Hyejin’s room but stopped. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it didn’t really happen?   
  
Pacing back, Wheein gathered her things to get ready for school instead. She was relieved that the bathroom was unoccupied. She didn’t think she could face Hyejin just yet.   
  
Oh, god, Hyejin. Her body thrummed again. She tried to push it away as she rushed through her morning routine, trying to get done before Hyejin needed to get to avoid an awkward confrontation. Racing back to her room, she hurried inside only to-  
  
“Hi.”  
  
The door shut a little too loudly behind her.   
  
“Hi,” Wheein choked out.   
  
Hyejin looked so haughty sitting on the edge of Wheein’s bed, leaned back on her hands and legs crossed in her school uniform. She was grinning softly, one corner of her mouth higher than the other making it smug. Wheein couldn’t move. Eyes kept her in place, staring her through. Hyejin was waiting for her to say something. She had made the first move, she put them into the same room. Now it was Wheein’s turn to take up her end and ask,  
  
“Did that really happen?”  
  
Teeth peeked out from Hyejin’s grin that couldn’t be contained. Wheein loved when she smiled that way. “Yeah.”  
  
Wheein closed her eyes. She was reeling with the emotions of the previous night. She could barely recall the feeling of Hyejin’s lips or her hands pulling at her, trying to turn their separate beings into one. It was all so new and hazy. Wheein couldn’t catalog it yet but she knew how it all made her feel.   
  
“Pinch me,” she murmured because, wow, was it even real?  
  
“Why-“ Hyejin stood up. “-when I could kiss you?”  
  
Wheein blew air past her lips. That was too much. Too, too much.   
  
“Why are you so shy? I told you I wanted to.” She took a step toward Wheein. “Remember?”  
  
She did. In a memory.  
  
_“Do you want to kiss dogs?”  
  
“Don’t be disgusting. I want to kiss you.”_  
  
“Oh,” said Wheein, feet taking her backward.   
  
“You said that last time.” She backed Wheein into the door causing it to rattle. She was glad her aunt was already gone for work. “Can I do it again?”  
  
The kiss was slower this time but no less impactful. It still made Wheein’s toes curl and her hands quake and her insides mush. It made her body come to life. It made everything feel right.   
  
“I knew you wanted to,” Hyejin whispered against her mouth.   
  
Wheein did, too. Deep down inside she knew. Always knew. She chose to push those facts away, pretend it was simply unwavering affection for her best friend. She believed it but kissing Hyejin brought facts into the light. It was more. So much more. The realization was as crippling as imagining her life without Hyejin in it.  
  
“How?”  
  
“Because you’re the only one who made me feel like this, too.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The tricky thing about demons was that they could never be put back once you let them out.   
  
Years of suppression overflowed with a wrath that Wheein didn’t predict. She needed, wanted, desired, craved Hyejin since she was eleven and now that she’d been able to have it - have Hyejin - in her entirety she didn’t want to stop. She couldn’t stop. It took over her thoughts, imposing like an intruder. Hyejin slowly became more important than extra hours of practice, than new sheet music to learn, perfecting the sharpness of her dance steps.   
  
“Stop.”  
  
Wheein took her hands off the keys.   
  
“You’re not focusing,” said the music instructor sitting in a chair beside the piano. He wasn’t happy with her.   
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Is there something more important?”  
  
She willed herself not to look at the clock on the wall. It was nearing break. Knowing Hyejin would be waiting for her, would pull her somewhere private, would kiss her like she’d been doing it for years gave her an uncomfortable ache of anticipation. She always looked forward to seeing Hyejin but not like this. And it was ruining her.  
  
“No,” she answered.   
  
The instructor looked at her a moment. Wheein met him the first year she became a trainee. He was hard on her. He saw something in her that Wheein didn’t see in the beginning and pulled it out, made her practice until her fingers, arms, and back ached. He trained her in places she never knew had aptitude and revealed that she actually could do this. She could hang with the other trainees. That she wasn’t just a shadow of Hyejin but an individual with her own skills as well.   
  
But right now? Right now Wheein wanted something else. She wanted that something she’d been wanted for longer than she even knew.   
  
“I gave you this piece a week ago. What’s wrong?”  
  
“I won’t let it happen again.”  
  
“You have the skills to be a well-rounded musician,” he went on, “but you need to get serious about your practicing. Being an idol is a privilege but what you can do as an individual is important. Without that you have nothing.”  
  
Her throat tightened. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly.   
  
Immediately her mind went,  _Hyejin_. This was Hyejin’s idea. It was by Hyejin’s push. It was because Hyejin dragged her into it. It was because Wheein couldn’t get stuck in Jeonju without Hyejin and everything she proposed was so much better.  
  
“I…” Wheein couldn’t look him in the eye. Not with those thoughts. “I thought it was something I could do.”  
  
“That isn’t enough.”   
  
“I like it,” she added. Maybe not all the pressure or stress or exhaustion but she liked what it turned her into. She liked where it could take her. She liked that she was steadily finding control and solace and a space for her to fit into. She liked that it solidified something between her and Hyejin. She liked that she had a vision, however hazy, of a future that she could be proud of.   
  
But what if it was all gone. What if Hyejin wasn’t there? What if she didn’t debut? What if all of it went away? Where would she be, who would she be, what would she be doing then?   
  
Wheein didn’t want to think about that. She was finally in a spot she felt proud and happy about. For it all to fade away she was sure she would perish herself. She needed all of it with Hyejin at the center. She was her core.   
  
“You’re a natural but you can’t get by that alone,” he said. “If you want to be something you’re going to have to put in more effort.”  
  
“I’ll work harder.”  
  
He nodded. “Start again.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They were kissing. They did a lot of kissing.   
  
Hyejin held her against the wall of a dark practice cubicle. She was always holding her against a wall, a shelf, a mattress. She was always in control. Just like when they were kids. Hyejin took over and Wheein heeded to her, trusted her, gave her all to her. In the back of her mind, Wheein thought that fact was quite dangerous but she couldn’t be bothered with it. Not in the moment. Not right now.   
  
“We have to be quiet,” Hyejin warned. Soundproof padding reduced resonance but didn’t mute voices.   
  
Wheein pulled back for a breath. “We should be practicing.”  
  
“We always practice.”  
  
Words from her instructor didn’t sound so foreboding when Hyejin was holding her and kissing her this way. Her kisses were suffocating. She put so much into her kisses that Wheein felt she’d combust. But there were other things she felt there. Trust, safety, love. Home.   
  
“I can’t get enough of you.” Spikes stabbed through Wheein’s body into the base of her stomach so hard she couldn’t hold back a whimper. Hyejin pulled back, amused at the sound. Wheein didn’t make those kinds of sounds. “That was cute.”  
  
“Don’t tease me.”  
  
“I mean it.” She pushed the hair out of Wheein’s face that she tried to use to hide. “Like a puppy.”  
  
Wheein went cold.  _Puppy._ She couldn’t help but think of her father. The last memory she had of him walking away from her mother who told him to leave and never come back struck her.   
  
_“I’ll always love you, puppy,”_ were his last words.   
  
And she never saw him again.   
  
“Whee-“  
  
“Don’t say that,” she mumbled. She didn’t want to link those two together. She didn’t want the mixed feelings of resentment and affection and confusion and devotion she held for him to be shared with Hyejin. She didn’t deserve that. She wasn’t that.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Hyejin pulled her closer and kissed her again. “Is that better?”  
  
Wheein’s nose wrinkled. That was cheesy but she swooned anyway. “You-“  
  
Someone knocked on the door. Wheein slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from squeaking. She almost forgot where they were. That was just the effect Hyejin had on her. She always made her forget everything. Troubles, pain, time.   
  
“Someone’s in here!” Hyejin called back.   
  
“Sorry,” returned a voice.   
  
Giggles broke out. Wheein wanted to get back to what they were doing but the real world was brought back into perspective and someone would start to notice they were gone.   
  
“Should we go to practice?”  
  
“Okay.” Hyejin pecked her lips. “Let’s go.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They found the other girls in the music room after lunch. Conversation stopped when they entered. The only one who cared to look at them was The Leader. Wheein couldn’t get past the feeling they were just talking about them.  
  
“Sorry, we’re late,” said Hyejin grabbing a stool in the semicircle they created. There was a music stand in front of each one holding the lyrics of the song they were supposed to practice for a unit review. She looked up from the music when no one said anything back. “What?”  
  
“Are you two okay?” asked Braids.   
  
Eyes cut to Braids in obvious shock that she asked. Other gazes stayed on music while The Leader locked eyes with Wheein who sat at the end of the line blocked by Hyejin who got the full force of the stare.  
  
“Yeah,” said The Leader. “You’ve been acting really weird lately.”  
  
“Weirder than usual.”  
  
Wheein’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”   
  
It was Gwangju who piped up. “We don’t see you as much.”  
  
The other’s followed:  
  
“You barely eat with us anymore.”  
  
“You’re always missing.”  
  
“Don’t you care about the group?”  
  
“Remember we’re all doing this together,” said The Leader with obvious emphasis. Wheein couldn’t even look at them.   
  
“We’ll try harder,” said Hyejin.  
  
Wheein felt eyes on her. She looked up to find them all staring at her. All except for Hyejin how’s back had gone rigid. “We’ll do better,” she muttered back.   
  
The Leader nodded to them. “We should start practicing the song. Wheein, can you play it for us?”  
  
Getting up from the stool, she moved to the piano bench across the room. It took her everything not to keep looking over at Hyejin throughout the practice.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein was on washing duty. A radio played softly in the background while Wheein scrubbed the dishes from a dinner her aunt left for them after practice. Hyejin sat on the counter, scrolling through her phone and humming along to the music. She wasn’t much help when it came to dishes. She hated how the water made her fingers pruney and her hands dry.   
  
“The girls said they’re going to a movie after practice tomorrow,” said Hyejin. “Do you want to go?”  
  
Wheein shrugged. Part of her wanted while the other felt obligated to do it. “Okay.”  
  
“I’ll tell them maybe.” Hyejin punched in characters and sent the message to the group chat.   
  
They created it soon after they were announced as a unit. Wheein didn’t say much in it but Hyejin did. Since their behavior was brought up, she tried to be better about it. They were right to call them out. They were a group now. Their bubbles would have to stretch to incorporate seven now. It would’ve been easier if it weren’t for...  
  
“Do you think they know?”  
  
Hyejin looked up from her phone. She was still smiling about something that was said in the chat. “Know what?”  
  
“That we’re- about-“   
  
Hyejin grinned at her, obviously amused by her stutter. Wheein blushed. They had yet to talk about...whatever this was. It didn’t seem necessary to discuss. Hyejin kissed her, she kissed her back, and it felt like it was supposed to feel. Right. Normal. Them. Their hearts had been conjoined the day they skipped rocks together and it just took a few years for them to fully realize the depth of that connection.   
  
But things still floated around in Wheein’s mind.   
  
“They know we’re best friends.”  
  
They’d always been on the more intense side of friends. When they first arrived they were virtually inseparable. At one point they discussed spending less time together but they gravitated back to each other when individual activities didn’t keep them apart. They sought out one another without thought. They worked in synchronization when they were put into a group. The only problem with that now was they weren’t just two anymore and they weren’t  _just_  best friends.   
  
“Are we?”  
  
“What else would we be?” Hyejin’s eyebrow lifted. There was an oddly defensive edge in her voice.   
  
Wheein wasn’t sure how to decipher it. “What if they find out that we...you know…”  
  
Hyejin put down her phone. She was suddenly serious in a way that made Wheein self-conscious. “Do you have a problem with what we do?”  
  
“No,” she said quickly. That wasn’t the point. “You know what people would think.”  
  
The same horror that went through Wheein flashed across Hyejin’s face. The warmth in her cheeks was gone and her jaw flexed. She knew. They both did. Without having to say it they could  _feel_ it. No matter how normal it felt to them, to so many it was wrong.   
  
Hyejin’s brow knitted together. “We’re not dating so what does it matter?”   
  
Wheein felt like a knife stabbed through her stomach. They weren’t dating. They weren’t girlfriends. They were best friends. That was all. Was it? “Right.”  
  
“Right?” Hyejin echoed, unsure.   
  
Wheein nodded and turned back to the sink. Hyejin climbed off the counter and arms wrapped around Wheein from behind, pulling her into familiar warmth. Lips brushed against her ear and all of those hurtful feelings melted away. Hyejin still chose her. Hyejin was still holding her. Hyejin still wanted her regardless of titles. Maybe they didn’t need them. Maybe what Wheein felt inside of herself about who they were was enough.   
  
“You’re everything to me.” Her voice was hot wax. “Don’t you know that?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“That’s all who needs to know. You and me.” Lips touched the side of her neck as hands slid into her shirt, running across her skin. “Right?”  
  
“Right.” Wheein gripped the edge of the sink. Hyejin holding her was one thing but Hyejin touching her was something different altogether.   
  
Hips pushed against her, locking her against the sink. Fire burned. Teeth nibbled at her ear. It was a true weakness and she turned into putty in Hyejin’s arms. Breath control left her and she gasped out at the air, knuckles going white as she held onto the sink hoping it would ground her. It didn’t. They way Hyejin was touching her, kissing her everywhere but her lips, pushing up against her so they ground against one another was making her soar.   
  
“Hyejin,” she hissed when hips rolled. She grabbed Hyejin’s wrist, stopping her hand from its upward course to her chest and dragged it down, down, down-  
  
A door creaked in the distance reminding them they weren’t actually alone. Hyejin pulled away leaving her cold and tingling. She looked back over her shoulder, insides sizzling at the blackness of her eyes when they looked at one another. Hyejin was smiling that smile.  _That_ smile. The one that said she knew exactly what was going on but she was flushed herself. The muscles in her neck were tight. The rise and fall of her chest was too much.  
  
“I’m going to take shower first,” Hyejin said before leaving.   
  
Wheein leaned over the sink. She needed to catch her breath.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“Wheein?” Gwangju poked her head into the music room. “They want us in the practice room.”  
  
She followed her out of the music room and down the hall. The others were already inside, standing in a line in front of one of the Staff. He waved them in and Wheein hurried to take up the end of the line so they were all standing together.   
  
“We’ve decided your positions.” He lifted a clipboard and began reading off names and titles.   
  
No one was surprised that The Leader was officially given the title along with rapper or that Braids was their main vocalist. “Ahn Hyejin, lead vocals,” he said, looking up to find her in the row.   
  
Wheein glanced down the line to see Hyejin grinning. She was happy for her.   
  
“Jung Wheein, main dancer.”   
  
She couldn’t believe it. Gwangju bumped her shoulder into her after being announced as the lead dancer. After that was the center and the maknae.   
  
“Does this mean we’ll get to live in a dorm?”  
  
“We’re in discussion about that now.” He smiled, told them they could finish up for the day, and left.   
  
“Let's pick roommates!” shouted Gwangju once they were alone.   
  
“Let’s go out I celebrate!”  
  
“Let’s get street food!”  
  
“Yeah!”  
  
Collecting bags, they road into the city. The night air was crisp. It burned like coils in Wheein’s chest a pleasant sensation. Food filled up their bellies and laughs were exchanged across tables pushed together under an awning.   
  
“Let’s take a picture!” suggested the maknae.   
  
The Leader bounded off to ask the clerk if she could take it for them and hurried back. Hyejin’s arm looped around her waist on her left while another member hooked a tight arm around her neck from the right. The others closed in, packing in tight. A smile tugged at the corners of Wheein’s mouth. She never really had a solid family but being with these girls started to feel like one. Having Hyejin with her made it complete.  
  
“Say kimchi!”  
  
“Kimchi!”   
  
The picture snapped.   
  
For the first time, they felt like a real group and Wheein felt part of something great.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They laid in Hyejin’s bed glowing. A week of streamlined practices had yet to wear off the euphoria of the news they recently received. Photo shoots were underway for pre-debut teasers. The demo for their single was selected. Group names were being finalized. Where they would live was soon to be determined.   
  
“Where do you think they’ll put us?” her limbs were sore from the new choreography but it was the good kind of sore.   
  
“Probably a rooftop room,” said Hyejin. They were a far cry from a real dorm but it was something they could call their own.   
  
“What are we going to do when we live with the others?” asked Wheein.  
  
Hyejin didn’t answer right away. She rolled her head over on the pillow to look over at Wheein beside her. It didn’t seem like it was something she thought about already. “We’ll room together.”  
  
Wheein’s nose wrinkled. That was a no-brainer but not enough. Her selfishness was brought to light when she thought about having to share a space with five others. A bout of anxiety hit her soon after when she realized that maybe what she and Hyejin had between them wouldn’t even last that long.   
  
“Will we tell them?” she asked slowly.   
  
Hyejin narrowed her eyes. It was obvious she didn’t like the subject. “When we make enough money, we can move out. We could have our own place.”  
  
That was another far off dream, but Wheein played along, steering them from the weight of the topic. “With walk-in closets?"  
  
“A jacuzzi tub.” She rolled onto her side, head propped on her fist. “On a high rise.”  
  
“High rise?”  
  
“For the view.”  
  
Wheein thought to herself that thew view of the girl in front of her was plenty enough. “You’re not going to get tired of me?”  
  
“Who says I’m not already? I just can’t afford to live the rest of my life with someone I don’t know.”  
  
Wheein’s lips parted. “Do you mean that?”  
  
Hyejin flicked her lightly in the forehead. “I’m not tired of you, that was a joke.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes. She knew that. “I meant...us.”  
  
“Who else would I want to spend it with?” she said, tone absolute.   
  
Wheein made a choking noise in the back of her throat. She thought after all this time, of hearing Hyejin confess her heart to her, of showing her the depth of her love in so many ways, she would be used to it by now.   
  
“I mean it.” Hyejin pulled her closer until they were chest to chest, legs tangled together. Fingers slid up the back of her neck into her hair where they teased gently at her scalp. The air around them turned into static, sparking something heated and dark in Wheein’s veins and in Hyejin’s gaze. “Sometimes I think I’m in love with you.”  
  
Wheein wanted to disintegrate. “What are you?”  
  
“I don’t know. Something more than that?”   
  
Wheein’s heart swelled in her chest. There were things they didn’t say to each other. There were words that never passed their lips, words that held too much weight and scars and memories that neither wanted to associate with one another. But they could feel it. Wheein could feel it. Their link was so much deeper than what she ever felt with the ones who were supposed to be her family and definitely more than anyone else she ever met.   
  
Hyejin was the only one. And because of that, she wanted everything with her.   
  
“I want to try something,” said Wheein, voice low as a whisper.   
  
Hyejin’s eyebrow lifted. “What?”  
  
She ran into a problem again. A problem where she couldn’t exactly voice what she wanted. So she acted.   
  
Leaning forward, she drew Hyejin into a kiss. It started off simple and tame, but that’s not what Wheein wanted. She bit into it, raising the intensity. Hyejin responded. She pushed back, tongue sliding easily into Wheein’s mouth. She moaned at the contact made.   
  
Keeping their lips together, she maneuvered to straddle Hyejin’s waist.   
  
“Wheein?”  
  
She shook her head. Speaking would ruin it. She kissed Hyejin to keep her from making any more remarks and hoped she felt what was needed in the moment when she pushed her hips down, grinding them just enough.   
  
Hyejin sucked her tongue in response and drew back with a hiss. “Wheein-ah.”  
  
Letting up, she caught Hyejin’s placid eyes boring back up at her. With no words, Wheein held her gaze as she ran her fingers down Hyejin’s arm until she reached her wrist and gripped. She knew Hyejin could feel the way she was shaking but she made no comment. She just let Wheein guide her hand down to the space between Wheein’s legs and place it over needy, burning, heat behind a layer of cotton.  
  
The way Hyejin looked at her was with astonishment and uncertainty. “You…”  
  
The confidence she built it was wavering now that it was happening. Now that her desires were being played in reality. “I’m so nervous.”  
  
“Don’t be,” she said but Wheein could tell she was too.  
  
“I want you.“  
  
Hyejin’s eyes were shining and dark. It made Wheein shiver. “I’ve never...to anyone else.” Hyejin’s ears went red. Wheein found it endearing. So many times it was her who was flushing.   
  
She pressed her forehead to Hyejin’s. They were both panting, breath shaky from nerves. “Just touch me.”  
  
So she did. Hyejin circled her fingers lightly. Wheein hummed in approval. Hyejin watched her while she worked her, fingers moving tentatively, testing out territory she’d never been before. Wheein felt her body move on its own, rocking her ever so slightly into Hyejin’s touch. Arms wrapping around her neck, she pulled Hyejin closer. Tighter. She wanted to feel more of her.   
  
“Can you take them off?”  
  
Hyejin let her up to get her shorts off. Underwear followed and Wheein caught a wave of self-consciousness. She couldn't count a number of times they’d seen each other naked but their intentions before were innocent. They weren’t embarking on something new and wild and hot like this.   
  
“Come here,” Hyejin beckoned her back.   
  
Wheein went to her willingly, leaning her weight into her until they were sprawled on the bed. Wheein’s thighs split over Hyejin’s waist and her arms fell on either side of her head. Hair draped over them and tangled with one another on the mattress. Hyejin looked up at her, one hand curved around Wheein’s back while the other rested in the sliver of space that separated fingertips from the need between her legs.   
  
“Don’t just stare at me.”  
  
“I can’t help it.”  
  
Wheein wanted to hide her face. Hyejin was making her heart warm and her cheeks hot. “Hyejin, please.”  
  
Seconds passed before Hyejin moved. Fingers pressed against her. Wheein’s muscles tightened at the contact. It was so much different skin to skin. She pulled her lip between her teeth, biting down as Hyejin began to swirl the way she had before, testing the pressure with each movement, reading the way Wheein reacted, watching wrinkles form in her forehead and her mouth part in pleasure.  
  
A whisper of a moan left her lips when Hyejin moved down to her entrance, fingers tentative and gentle and searching.   
  
“How are you so…”  
  
Wheein whimpered because she could feel it. She was a little embarrassed. Hyejin was touching her in the most intimate of ways, feeling what Wheein often felt when she’d put her hands on her, put her lips on her, whispered those sweet things to her. She felt naked and exposed in more ways than one. But if there was anyone she would bear it all in front of, it was Hyejin.   
  
A finger slipped inside of her. “Oh!”  
  
“Is this okay?”  
  
“Y-yes.” Her head dropped into the space above Hyejin’s shoulder. Turning her head inward, she touched a wet kiss to the side of her face, breath painting her skin.  _“Hyejin.”_  
  
Her insides were tightening up. Pressure built more and more and more until she couldn’t take it any longer. Wheein shuddered, moans like soft pants leaving her in gasps. Hyejin held her. She kissed her softly, letting Wheein find herself again before letting her rest on the mattress beside her.   
  
She was flushed and tingling. Hyejin was looking at her so fondly and awestruck. It was an expression Wheein never knew from her. It was pure.   
  
Fingers smoothed hair from her face. “I want to watch you again,” said Hyejin after a moment.   
  
So Wheein let her.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Fingers curved over keys and pressed. It was late. Most of the others had gone for the night. Wheein remained. There was a tricky piece of music the instructor wanted her to learn. The perfectionist in her wouldn’t let her leave until she had it down regardless of the fatigue in her bones.  
  
“Why does a dancer need to practice music so much?” asked Hyejin. Her head was leaned against Wheein’s shoulder, eyelids dropping occasionally. It had been a particularly packed day of rehearsal and she was ready to go. “You’ve been at this for hours."  
  
Wheein kept playing, brow furrowing in concentration on the staffs rather than the warmth of Hyejin. She wanted to leave, too. “Go.”  
  
“I hate riding back alone.” It was a poor excuse. She just didn’t want to leave Wheein’s side.   
  
“Ten more minutes.”  
  
Hyejin hummed a half-hearted agreement and fell silent. She let time go, ten minutes exactly before she tried again. “Wheein.”  
  
She didn’t respond. She was so close to playing flawlessly through the bars. She wished she could’ve been back on guitar. She had that down.   
  
Hyejin sat up. “Wheein.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
A devilish smirk pulled at Hyejin’s mouth before lips kissed Wheein’s shoulder. “Wheein.”  
  
It was barely anything but Wheein’s concentration faltered. “Stop.”  
  
She kissed her cheek, lips damp and sticky on her skin.   
  
Warmth blossomed through Wheein, sliding down her neck. “Hyejin,” she pleaded.   
  
She kissed her nose.  
  
Wheein slammed her hands on the keys causing a disgusting clash of sound. “Ahn Hyejin!”  
  
“Hm?” she hummed in that milky tone.   
  
Wheein had to take a breath. “You’re messing me up.”  
  
Hyejin fiend ignorance. “It sounded okay to me.”  
  
“You weren’t even listening.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Wheein fumed but it was weak. Her body was yearning for the girl beside her more than the piano in front of her. “Ugh, I hate-”  
  
Lips touched hers and held. Wheein crumbled.  
  
“-you.”  
  
“Mhmm.” Hyejin gave a giggle from her throat that was as dark and mischievous as a chuckle and kissed her again, long and wet. “I can’t stop thinking about that night.”  
  
Wheein bit into her lip suddenly shy. She hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind either. Thinking of it now turned her skin molten and her stomach into waves.   
  
“I’ve never seen you like that.”  
  
Wheein groaned. “You’re embarrassing me.”   
  
“Hey,” Hyejin grabbed her face. Her hands were gentle and her eyes were soft. "I liked it."  
  
Whatever more she was going to say Wheein didn’t let her. Wheein leaned in, struck with the need to kiss her. God, she loved kissing her. Hyejin’s kisses were too good. So rich. So full and heavy. Her tongue stroked along her lips, begging for entrance that was granted. The kiss deepened. Breath thickened creating a clash of pants that echoed through the room. Hyejin cupped her face, holding her right where she wanted to lure Wheein’s tongue into her mouth and suck.   
  
That set Wheein ablaze and she reached out, gripping the collar of Hyejin’s shirt, yanking her closer. Hyejin was right when she said she couldn’t get enough. Wheein felt the same way. She couldn’t get her close enough or long enough. She was aching for more. More, more, more.   
  
“Stop making me want you.”  
  
She felt more than saw Hyejin’s smile. “You already have me.”  
  
Wheein’s insides turned to putty. “Not enough.”  
  
“What else do you want?”  
  
Wheein’s mouth couldn’t form the words but her body knew. Her body-  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Wheein jerked back, shooting off the bench. Sheet music fluttered to the ground. The staff member at the door looked at her to Hyejin who remained seated, head down so her hair hid her face from their hard eye.   
  
“If you’re not going to use this room to practice, go home.”  
  
Wheein bowed at the waist. She waited for them to go before she stood up straight. She was shaking all over. Her heart was racing. She felt cold and prickly all over. Hyejin’s face was colorless.   
  
“Do you think they’ll tell?”  
  
“No,” said Hyejin, confidently. “We’re not idols yet. They don’t care.”  
  
Wheein trusted her but something in her stomach was unsettled. “Let’s go home.”   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The rest of the apartment was quiet except for the sound of the shower running. Wheein went to it, slipping through the door into the steam damp bathroom. Hyejin was humming while she washed, voice dark and as sticky as the air.   
  
At the click of the door, she stopped. “Hello?”  
  
“It’s me. Are you almost done?”  
  
“Almost,” she said and went back to humming.  
  
Wheein pulled off her shirt first and placed it aside with her shorts and everything else. “I’m coming in.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Slithering through the curtain, she found Hyejin inside. The last bits of shampoo washed from her hair leaving in foamy white streaks down her skin and down the drain. She blinked water off her lashes and stared at Wheein, taken aback. She turned away from her and Wheein reached out, stringing her arms around her waist from behind.  
  
The chill of her skin met the heat of Hyejin’s causing her to shudder. She kissed at her shoulder loving the way goosebumps formed there. She kissed up the side of her neck, along a pronounced vein and to her ear where she laid a gentle kiss.   
  
“Wheein,” she sighed, voice a pitch higher. It was so much different having Hyejin in her arms. The control, the boldness, the strong aura she normally walked in around others melted away leaving her vulnerable and tentative.   
  
Wheein liked that she was able to see that side of her. She liked that Hyejin trusted her enough to see those parts of her and accepted and protected all of Wheein’s softer forms as well.   
  
"You asked me what else I wanted."  
  
"Is this it?"  
  
"Almost."  
  
Neck turning, Hyejin sought out her lips. Wheein lifted enough to kiss her and smoothed a hand down Hyejin’s stomach, lowering down passed her bellybutton to-   
  
A light grip on her wrist stopped her.   
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“I’ve never let anyone else touch me,” she said, shame coloring her voice. “No one ever since…”  
  
Wheein’s jaw tightened. She didn’t want to think about Hyejin’s father. She didn’t want to think about the things he did to her - the things Hyejin still would not fully disclose with her. She didn’t want her to be reminded of him in any way when she was with her and it hurt that the wounds he left haunted her in moments that were meant to be beautiful.   
  
“I wouldn’t hurt you.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“We don’t have to.”  
  
Hyejin shook her head. “I trust you.”  
  
Her hand dropped away. Wheein waited a beat before she let her hand dip, fingers inching slowly until they reached their destination. Hyejin sucked in a breath when she finally touched her. Her body tightened up and Wheein held her tighter with her other arm.  
  
“I have you,” she whispered into her ear.   
  
Hyejin nodded and Wheein continued. She touched her slowly. Softly. She let her get used to her touch, let her know it was she who was touching her and no one else. Let her relax into her hold knowing it was Wheein who was behind her and nothing to be feared.   
  
Body loosening, Hyejin hummed in steamy arousal. Her head dropped back against Wheein’s shoulder and nails cut into the skin of her thighs where she held on, grip tightening the closer Wheein brought her. She slipped over the edge silently, mouth open and body pulsing.   
  
Wheein didn’t expect her to be so shy. She didn’t expect her to turn around and hide her face away in the crook of Wheein’s neck and hold her close.   
  
Water rained on them, hot going into lukewarm. They didn’t care. They just let the moment be.   
  
And everything felt perfect.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
But it wasn’t.   
  
A staff member interrupted rehearsal one evening.   
  
“Hyejin and Wheein,” they said. “Come with me, please.”  
  
No one spoke as they left. Wheein fell into pace behind the staff member with Hyejin at her side. Fingers brushed and she suppressed the urge to hold Hyejin’s hand the way she used to always do when she was scared or nervous.   
  
The staff stopped them in front of an office. “You can go inside.”  
  
Wheein’s stomach filled with rocks when she saw her aunt already seated inside. Across from her was one of the Directors.   
  
“Have a seat, ladies,” he said with a gesture of the hand.   
  
Wheein took a chair beside the aunt with Hyejin on her other side. The air was stuffy and there was a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Wheein clasped her hands together in her lap.  
  
“My apologies for calling you hear from work, Ms. Jung, but seeing as the girls are minors we couldn’t proceed without a parent or guardian present.” The Director shifted his weight to one arm of the chair, eyes going from Hyejin to Wheein. He had an odd expression when he looked at her. One like regret. “Ms. Jung, it has come to our attention that the girls have been expressing themselves inappropriately.”  
  
Wheein felt one of those rocks in her stomach shoot up into her throat. She forced herself not to look at Hyejin next to her.  
  
“What do you mean inappropriately?”  
  
“A staff member caught them engaged in, to not be too crass, adult acts.”  
  
“They’re teenagers,” said her aunt despite the way the muscle from her shoulders into her neck tightened. “I’m sure these girls are not the first ones who have expressed themselves that way.”  
  
“With each other, ma’am,” he said after a moment. No one said anything after that. Not until the Director cleared his throat and sat forward. “We do not know how long this has been going on or who else knows about it but we have a strict behavioral policy here. We cannot risk their actions influencing the other trainees and what this could look like for the company have this information get out. There are standards and morals we must maintain and their behavior is prohibited here.”  
  
“What does this mean for the girls?”  
  
He looked at Wheein again. The regret was noticeable then but whatever he felt had no sway in what he said. “We have decided terminate their contracts. They will no longer be associated with this company and will not be permitted to rejoin.”  
  
“What?” Hyejin choked out.   
  
“We ask that all of their belongings be taken from the building and all company related items be returned.”  
  
“This isn’t fair!” Hyejin snapped. “You can’t kick us out! We didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
“Hyejin,” her aunt said, evenly silencing her. She turned back to the Director. “We’ll make sure to collect all of their things and return those belongings. Thank you.”  
  
Everything after that happened in a blur.  
  
Leaving the room, getting their bags, walking out of the building.  
  
They didn’t get to say goodbye to the other girls.  
  
They didn’t get to say thank you to the instructors who put so much into them.  
  
They didn’t get to plea for another chance.  
  
“Go ahead inside, Hyejin,” said her aunt once they arrived back at the apartment.   
  
She climbed out soundlessly leaving Wheein and her aunt alone. She didn’t bring her head up. She was too ashamed, too broken, to numb to do anything but sit in that car seat. There were patches of water stained on her pants where tears had fallen. Hair fell around her face in a poor attempt to shield it. Her throat ached from holding in the sob that wanted to come out.   
  
“What are you and Hyejin?” asked her aunt.   
  
Wheein closed her eyes. She had no answer for her. Hyejin wasn’t her best friend. She wasn’t her girlfriend. She wasn’t her savior, her light, her heart, her soul, her life. Hyejin wasn’t just one of those. She was too many things and there was no word she could offer that would be right. So all Wheein said was,  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Her aunt sighed, long and heavy. “I’ll arrange for you both to go back to Jeonju.”  
  
Wheein’s head whipped up. “I don’t want to go back to Jeonju!”  
  
When her aunt looked at her it was like she wasn’t seeing her niece. “We’ll talk to your mother about this in the morning.”  
  
Wheein was left in the car alone.   
  
She didn’t know what to do. But her hands did and they moved on their own, pulling her phone from her pocket and scrolling to the number at the bottom of her contacts list.   
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Dad-“ was all she could get out before she broke down. 

  
  



	3. Onyx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onyx is known to separate. It can help release negative emotions such as sorrow and grief. It is used to end unhappy or bothersome relationships.

Rice cooked, eggs sizzled, toast browned. 

Wheein flitted around the kitchen preparing breakfast. She was up early, something ingrained in her from the past. It gave her time to relax and eat before she had to catch the bus to work. 

Keys jingled in the doorway followed by Hyejin who swept into the kitchen. Her makeup was heavy and dramatic. It suited her. So did the sheer, form-fitting dress she wore. It was incredibly revealing. Wheein found herself staring at her, admiring round curves and hips. They’d grown up a lot over the years. 

Hyejin caught her staring and smiled. “Morning.”

“Hey.” 

“I’m starving.” She snatched up a piece of toast from Wheein’s plate and dropped into the chair across from her bringing the stench of cigarette smoke and beer. 

She looked exhausted but there was a light in her eyes. The bar she worked carried different themes with live entertainment every night. Hyejin was one of their singers. A crowd favorite. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do, but at least she was performing. 

Wheein tasted envy like bile in the back of her throat. She shouldn’t feel that way. She chose not to continue music. She chose to put away her guitar and to never touch a piano. She chose not to take offers that came from those who knew her talent. Those wounds were yet to heal. She knew it was the same for Hyejin. She knew it by the way she put her all into the less than perfect job, how she dealt with each performance as if she were on a mainstage, the way she critiqued herself harder and harsher than any of their trainers did in the past. 

But it was better than the nothing she did in the beginning. It was better than a Hyejin who never wanted to leave her room and spent nights crying and cursing everyone who ruined her chance when it was right there in her grasp. It was better than being back in Jeonju or stuck in Seoul or any other place that carried memories like scars.

Running away from that kept them alive. Just like it did when they were eleven. Only thing was that Wheein hoped this time things wouldn't end in disaster. 

“Did anyone call?” asked Hyejin stealing a dollop of rice from Wheein’s plate. 

She swatted her hand away but Hyejin came back for more. “I haven’t checked the messages.”

Getting up, Hyejin went for the landline in the other room. They didn't really need it but Hyejin insisted on getting one for professional calls. She was obsessed with it, waiting for a casting agent or a manager or someone to call her with an offer after tossing her headshot and applications out into the void. Wheein admired her tenacity but then again Hyejin was always like that and Wheein...well... 

Messages played out from the machine. They were mostly sales calls, telemarketers, a scam offering them an all paid trip to the Bahamas. Wheein wouldn't mind a trip to the Bahamas. She was getting antsy, restless, unsettled. Choosing to live on their own and take hold of their own lives kept her from going backward but she couldn't get rid of the feeling of failure. She couldn't shake the idea that she was back at square one. A nobody from Jeonju with no dreams to aim for. 

That was all.

“I’m going to bed,” Hyejin called in disdain when there was nothing of importance to her.

“Goodnight.”

The sound of the door closing rang through the apartment. 

-/-/-/-

She sat at a desk sectioned off by cubicle walls. Phones rang through the office space. A printer beeped a jam warning somewhere across the room. The elevator chimed with third-floor arrivals. How bland. 

“Thank you for calling Center For Financial, how may I help you?” Wheein droned into the phone. 

She was always good at numbers. It only made sense that she was stuck punching them in. She couldn’t say she loved the job. Shit, she hated it. But it paid bills, kept a roof over their head and them from starving. 

Wheein wondered when she turned into her mother. Work, work, and more work. Early mornings, late evenings. She was sure she saw a gray hair the other day from all the stress. She pushed that comparison away. She didn’t want to be like her mother, drowning in something she didn’t actually like to do and missing the finer things in life like the people in her life that mattered. In that, Wheein could never be anything like her. She cared too much about those people if only because they were truly all she had. 

Whispers began to slither through the office. Wheein paid them no mind. There was always some sort of gossip and she didn’t care enough about the people around her to give into it. When whispers turned to mumbles, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of interest. Rolling her chair out of the cubicle, she turned to a neighboring coworker. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

“The new intern. Everyone thinks he looks like that idol.”

Wheein had to stand up to see who everyone was gawking at. He was handsome. That idol sort of handsome brought from constant pressure to look anything but perfect and very expensive beauty products. In reality, he was a nobody from a university with good recommendations but seeing him made Wheein bitter. 

Dropping back into her chair, she hunched over her desk and sighed. She was being immature and foolish. Those dreams were dashed and she didn’t have the guts to even touch it again. But why were the aches of her past so strong?

Perhaps because that’s all of Wheein that remained with nothing to grasp ahead of her. 

-/-/-/-

She waited at the bus stop after work. The pin-board at the back caught Wheein’s eye. She didn’t always pay attention to it, but it was raining and the crowd huddled under the awning forced her to the board with nothing else to steal away her attention.

An orange flier with hipster-esque text blared amongst the black and white and monotonous other ads. It was for a cafe not too far away calling for anyone who wanted to join in an open mic night that they hosted every Thursday. A prize was included for the crowd’s pick. Karaoke Bash, Mahjong Tournament, and a Retro Movie Night were other weekly activities that were listed. 

Taking out her phone, Wheein snapped a picture of it. She had nothing else better to do with her time. Not anymore. No school, no practice. Only a nine to five plus job and an apartment that saw one person more often than it did two. Boredom was something commonplace to her now. Boredom and loneliness that teetered on the edges of a depressive funk.

_“There are other companies.”_

_“You’ve done too much to give up.”_

_“You’re not a bad person for what happened.”_

Those were the words her father said to her _that_ evening. He was so sweet. So understanding. He was the reason why they had a place to live. He reminded her of the father she knew when she was only just a kid, and for a little while, she believed him. She believed him until she realized trying again put her back at the bottom. She was too discouraged to go through that again when she was a few months shy of getting gold. Still, she was grateful for his words since the ones coming from her mother were full of opposition and acidic remarks about how,

_“I knew she’d lead you off a cliff eventually.”_

The push back was enough for Wheein to lose any drive. The tears, the humiliation, the strain, the fatigue, the unpredictability was too much for her broken heart to shoulder. Calling a quits was hard but for her, it was the right decision. 

Wasn’t it? The gnawing in her stomach had something different to say. 

Brakes squeaked as the bus pulled up. Everyone rushed to get off and get on, heads ducked to protect from the rain. She was scrunched toward the front against the window that she stared out of, watching the city pass her by. 

Funny. That’s how she felt. Like the world and her life were passing her by and she had nothing gained from it other than continuous heartache and an emptiness brought on by failure and rejection. 

Her eyes stung. Wheein blinked those tears back. She couldn’t let that keep happening. She couldn’t settle for still being a nothing or a nobody. 

-/-/-/-

She found her guitar tucked in the back of the closet. 

Pulling it out, she sat it on the bed and cracked open the case. Familiar smells escaped into the air. It brought a heavy spat of nostalgia as she pulled it out. Something rattled inside. Turning it over, a rock fell out from the sound hole. She picked it off the floor and sat it on the side table before settling onto the bed, guitar in her lap. 

It was such a strange feeling to hold it again. Training seemed so long ago. She was seventeen then. She was twenty-one now. But muscle memory never went away and she played as if barely any time had gone by. 

Old wounds opened up as notes filled the quiet space. Flashes of time spent in practice rooms and with instructors made her throat tighten and the corners of her eyes burn. They rested their entire future on that company. Having it ripped from beneath their feet over something so judgmental wrecked her. 

Wheein played for all those years that now felt wasted. She was rusty. The music didn’t flow how it used to but that was so telling of where she was now. Less than happy, just shy of content, skating by on chances, trying to find rhythm again. 

The floorboards creaked. She stopped playing when she saw a sleepy Hyejin hovering at the door. Her hair, cropped at the neck, and a brilliant shade of red, was messy but it didn’t take away from her beauty or the wistful way she was looking at her. She still had makeup on her face left over from the night before. Wheein wasn’t sure if it was that or something else, but her cheeks were sharper. They had both lost hope after what happened but things broke Hyejin particularly hard. She was never quite the same. Quieter, more guarded, hesitant.

Seeing her like this, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk of a smile on her mouth took Wheein back to when they were teenagers. Wheein felt the same rise in her. A swell of emotions flooded over into her fingers when Hyejin told her to,

“Keep playing.”

Wheein strummed. The song was old but familiar. It beckoned Hyejin over and she sat down on the bed behind her. Legs spread on either side of Wheein’s hips and a body pressed into her back. Lips grazed the shell of her ear. Hands circled her waist. Wheein closed her eyes. 

The scene was so familiar. All those old switches from those times flipped on as Hyejin’s hands roamed her body, palming at her stomach and running over her thighs. The past was ruling them in the moment and Wheein felt it in Hyejin’s touch. 

“I always loved hearing you play,” said Hyejin, chin resting on her shoulder. Fingers slipped between the space between her legs and Wheein sighed into the air. Hyejin grinned. “I love hearing you moan even more.”

“Hyejin.” She hummed in arousal, hand still strumming lazily and fingers moving along the neck of her guitar in notes and song she didn’t know but her body did.

“Don’t you miss it?”

Wheein wasn’t sure what she meant. Music? Training? Her touch? Her kisses? Wheein remembered months where Hyejin wouldn’t even look at her. Shame and guilt was a bitch and the demonization of their... _relationship_ almost ruined what they had. Things weren’t ever really the same even if they liked to pretend that they were. A barrier was created and the nature of what they were, who they would be, where they would go in those regards was never broached upon again.

They shut that up inside of them and only expressed it in moments like these. Moments when feelings were heightened and emotions spilled over. 

“No,” she said, “because I still have you.” Her only constant. Her rock. Her foundation. 

Lips pulled back into a smile against her neck and kissed, pecks light and damp. A hand dipped into her sweatpants, slipping right into heat. Wheein’s thighs spread open a fraction more giving herself openly. 

“Do you still trust me?” Hyejin cooed into her ear. Two fingers shaped around her clit and gave a gentle squeeze.

Wheein hissed. It had been a while and Hyejin’s touch was like the lick of flames. “With everything.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft, Wheein almost missed it but she heard it and it squeezed her heart. 

“It’s not your-” her voice hitched at Hyejin’s ministrations “-fault.”

Hyejin bit into the column of her neck, incisors sharp in her skin. When Wheein whimpered, she let up on the pressure and licked at the teeth-pricked spots. “I want you to be happy.” 

“Stay with me.” A finger circled her entrance, teasing her on that edge. 

“Okay,” Hyejin purred. 

That was all Wheein needed. 

-/-/-/-

She sprawled across her bed after dinner. It was quiet. Weekend nights usually were when she was stuck home alone and Hyejin was off at work. Strange, they lived together but they hardly saw one another. It was so different from the past. Wheein guessed that was part of getting older.

Rolling onto her feet, she went to the closet for a change of clothes. An empty apartment was the last place she wanted to be.

Shouldering her guitar, she took a cab down into the city and got out at the little cafe nestled between a boutique and a candle shop. 

Wheein snuck in with her guitar clutched in her hand. It was an interesting place. Industrial in design and atmosphere catered to the new age artist and free spirit. Dim lights lent comfort with a caramel glow that settled you in. Booths lined walls with individual tables spread out in the center. A small stage took up the far back with posters plastered all over the place. It would’ve been tacky anywhere else but it fit here.

A bar made up the front counter. She took to one of the green cushion stools, ordered a latte, and watched as a crowd trickled in. Another barista soon went up to the stage to kick off the event and introduce the first performer. 

There were a variety of acts. Comedy, rap, classic musicians, cover artists, impersonator. Wheein went along with the crowd, applauding and laughing in all the right places. On her second latte and a pastry, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. 

“One more?” asked the barista after a duo left the stage. Their a capella act was good. 

Wheein looked at her empty glass. She shouldn’t but she was in the mood to let herself go that night. “One more.”

He nodded with a smile and took her mug just as someone else went up. A woman with long, silver hair walked onto the stage to a clatter of applause. She was dressed chic in black pants, turtleneck, and a blazer with shiny silver buttons. She looked expensive. Not like the typical patrons who frequented the area. The crowd was already piqued by her look. It only grew when she started to speak. 

“Thank you,” she said into the mic, voice soft and humble. It was a juxtaposition to the strong presence she gave off. “This piece is called Enough.”

Wheein waited for music to play but nothing came. Only the woman’s voice and Wheein was stunned. She spoke strong and confident, words spilling off her lips in radiant verses of spoken word. She was good. Not by Wheein’s own opinion but by the reaction of the crowd as well. They were rapt into concentration, shaken by the raw and real phrases that she spoke. Applause was louder after she finished. 

“Thank you,” she said again, bowing as she got up, shyness back intact. 

She moved away to the bar near Wheein at the far end where attention was harder to fall on them. Wheein was reminded of herself as a trainee. How she’d put her all into giving a performance but returned to her shell once focus was no longer on her. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to enter for the prize?” the barista asked the woman. 

She shook her head. “I’m just visiting.” Her eye caught Wheein a few stools down. She offered a soft smile and jutted her chin. “Maybe she wants to?”

Wheein looked down at her guitar case leaning against the bar. She forgot all about it. “I don’t know.”

“We had a last minute cancellation,” said the barista. “There’s one slot open.”

Wheein caught the woman’s eye again. She gestured encouragement with her head toward the guitar. 

She gave in. “Okay.” 

The barista walked over to tell the MC. Wheein’s palms began to itch. When they went up to announce one more act she thought her stomach was going to fall out of her butt. 

Grabbing her guitar, she made her way toward the front. As she walked up to the stage, she wondered what she was doing. She had no music with her. Just a guitar she hadn’t touched for four years and memories. So many memories. 

Applause ended when she got to the stage and settled on a stool. Eyes were all on her. Staring. Waiting. Watching. Familiar waves of stage fright started to seep in. She swallowed them down the way she learned to do in. 

“Hi,” she said into the mic. “This is a song I wrote.”

Pick between trembling fingers, she closed her eyes and started to play. Her voice mixed in, words simple but they were words true to her, who she was, where she came from, who her heart beat for.

The more she played, the more she felt loosening inside of her. The heaviness of years piled up, the ache of being cast aside, the choking feeling of being cooped up for so long too afraid to touch these scars again. She felt a flame light up again inside of her and she used the energy to take her through the song until it’s ending. 

Music stopped. The crowd clapped. Wheein opened her eyes and she was overwhelmed by the appreciation and genuine awe she saw on the faces before her. 

The only people she ever played for were staff members and trainees. The only person who ever listened to her - really listened - was Hyejin. The sensation of strangers applauding for her, giving her praises was one she couldn’t categorize. It was what she dreamt it would’ve been like if she were standing on stage with those seven girls. But better. There was no forced concept of stylized music or flashy costumes. It was her, a bar, and a few people who didn’t know who she was or where she came from. It was real. 

Through the patrons, Wheein saw the woman back at the bar. She smiled a lopsided smile and gave two thumbs up. Wheein smiled and bowed shyly. She didn’t know why but that’s what made her feel the most. 

-/-/-/-

The last of the patrons filtered out of the cafe. Wheein followed, watching as bodies went their separate ways along the walk. It was too late to take a bus back and too cold to make the walk. She settled on grabbing a cab. 

“Hey.”

Wheein looked up from her phone. It was the woman from before. She’d buttoned her coat. A striped scarf set snug around her neck. “Hi.”

She smiled, teeth ever present. “Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we take one together? It’ll be cheaper.” Wheein shrugged and told her the direction she was going. “Me, too. I’ll get one.”

She let her do the honors and moved to the curb where they waited. Wind bit through Wheein’s coat. She did the top button to keep out the chill. The cab was slow to get to them and she hurried inside, muscles relaxing at the warmth found inside. After telling their destinations, the car fell quiet. 

“I really liked your song,” said the woman after a while.

Wheein bid her thanks, fingers tucking a strand of long, black hair shyly behind her ear. “You were good, too.”

She grinned a sort of grin that said she heard it often but it was hardly haughty. “Do you play professionally?”

“No.”

Her eyebrows went up, mouth slightly parted in surprise. “Where did you learn?”

Memories of her crying in a practice room, of instructors drilling hard critiques into her, of calloused fingers from early days flashed through her mind. That was a different world. Sometimes it didn’t even feel like it happened considering how hard she tried to block parts of it out.

“I took lessons when I was younger,” she answered vaguely. 

“Do you write all your own music?”

She kept it simple. “I used to.”

“And now?”

“A hobby.”

“Ah.” The woman nodded. “Me, too. Spoken word, I mean. This is the first time I’ve done it in a few months. Work keeps me busy with other projects so I don’t get to write for myself anymore.”

That piqued Wheein’s interest. She looked the woman over. She wouldn’t have taken her for the soft, creative type. She had a chic yet edgy vibe. “You’re a writer?”

The corners of her mouth curled up, one side higher than the other. “You could say that.”

Wheein wasn’t sure what to reply and fell quiet. The car soon slowed. “This is me,” she said and climbed out.

“I’m Byulyi, by the way.”

Wheein spun around to find the woman leaned across the seat, hand held out. The streetlights caught the browns of her eyes, lighting them up in a milky shade. Wheein wondered why she even cared about that. 

She took her hand. Slender fingers curled around hers with a grip of familiarity. “It was nice meeting you.”

She let go and closed the door. Walking up to the apartment, a smile crept its way onto Wheein’s face. It wasn’t much, but the night was good. It had been a long time since she could breathe easy before bed. 

-/-/-/-

The slam of a door jerked Wheein awake. She just caught the shadow of Hyejin disappearing into the hall followed by the click of the bathroom door. Shower water turned on soon after and Wheein rubbed her eyes as she got up off the couch. When did she doze off there?

“Hyejin,” she called, knocking on the bathroom door. No response came. “Hyejin,” she tried again. “Ahn Hyejin.”

“What!”

Wheein opened her mouth to snap back at her but there was true displeasure in Hyejin’s voice. It wasn’t simply annoyance. “There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want me to heat it up? Are you hungry?”

“No.”

Wheein’s brow wrinkled. Hyejin was always hungry after a long day. “Are you sure?”

A few seconds passed of just the sound of water before she got a cracked, “Yeah.”

Wheein left her alone.

Cleaning up her things in the living room, she went to her room and climbed under the covers. Sleep hit her almost instantly and she dreamt until it was interrupted by a real body pressed into her. She felt Hyejin’s shoulders shake. Wheein turned around. Hyejin’s face was scrubbed and bare of everything except tears. She was instantly wide awake. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I quit.”

She thumbed tears from her cheek. “Why? What happened?”

“Wheein-ah.” She looked her dead in the eye. “I don’t like it when they touch me.”

Angry spikes shot through her body. Stringing arms around her back, she pulled her in. Hyejin crushed into her chest, letting her silent cries soak there. 

As Wheein held her, she wondered when they were going to catch a break. When was life going to deal them a winning hand? 

-/-/-/-

She found Hyejin in the kitchen hovering over the stove the next morning. It had been a long time since she did this. Most mornings, she was stumbling in from the bar with Wheein preparing breakfast and lunch to head off to work. It was a nice change of pace. 

“Hey.” Wheein hugged her from behind. Hyejin stiffened before she relaxed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

She pulled away to sit up on the counter. There was a bowl of sliced bananas there. She picked one up and popped it into her mouth. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No.”

Wheein left it at that. She knew better than to push. “I thought it wasn’t that kind of bar.”

“It’s not.” Hyejin’s jaw tightened. “They don’t care. It’s money for them.”

Wheein’s stomach churned. The way Hyejin said it made it seem like it wasn’t the first time. “What are you going to do?”

“I talked with one of the other performers.” She flipped a pancake. “They set me up with an audition.”

“For what?”

“A stage show.”

Wheein pursed her lips. She didn’t mind that but, “Hyejin, the rent.”

“I’ll pay it,” she snipped, glaring up at her. She faltered when she saw Wheein’s taken aback expression and turned away back to the stove. “I have to start somewhere if I want to get exposure. I can’t only have a sleazy bar on my resume.”

“That’s not all you have.”

Hyejin snorted. Idol training was little to nothing regardless of how much it shaped them into who they were and what they could do. Wheein felt the same as she did about it, leaving that portion of her life off a resume and out of conversation. 

“Hyejin,” she tried but was ignored. “Hyejin.” Grabbing her shirt, she tugged. Hyejin shrugged out of her hold. “Hyejinnie,” she pushed. A spatula slammed onto the counter. Annoyed eyes snapped up at her. Wheein wasn’t affected. She knew it was only a shield. She knew Hyejin was broken behind her glare. “Talk to me.”

Hyejin blinked away, trying to hide away the tears that seeped onto her lids. When she spoke, her voice shook. “I wish we never got caught.”

Wheein’s throat locked up. She heard other things in that:

_I wish we never started._

_I wish I didn’t kiss you._

_I wish you never wanted me back._

She didn’t know what to say to that. Me neither? I’m sorry? Let it go? Words were empty. If she could, she would reverse time, tell Hyejin they should've been more careful, tell her maybe they should slow down, tell her that they should’ve fought instead of taken the punishment they were dealt. They were too young to understand then and their parents not involved enough to know what to do. 

“Do you remember when we said we’d live together? We’re doing that now, right?”

She rolled her eyes but there was the beginnings of a smile on her lips. “Right.”

“We’re halfway there. Next, you’ll be famous. I’ll be your number one fan.” Hyejin’s smile was strained. She wondered why that was. “Hey.” Wheein pulled her over, knees spread to let Hyejin skink between them. Arms draped over her shoulders and she lured her closer. “We don’t have everything, but you have me.” 

Hyejin sighed. “Wheein…”

She touched a peck to her lips. “Don’t you like me?”

“Duh.” Hyejin turned shy when Wheein kissed her again. “You know I can’t stay mad when you do that.”

“I know.” She pressed her grin to Hyejin’s pout. “That’s why you need me.”

Hyejin chuckled soft and breathy. “Oh, yeah?”

She bit that smiling lip. “Yeah.”

-/-/-/-

Strawberry milk dropped, joining other items in the basket Wheein carried on her arm. She continued up the aisle looking for something to eat. She really needed to go to the grocer (their fridge and pantry were looking a little grim) but work went into overtime and she was ready to get out of stuffy business clothes. Convenient store foods would do. 

Rounding the shelves, Wheein stuttered in her step. There were very few people she knew with silver hair. It spilled out from beneath a baseball cap over the back of a maroon sweatshirt. She sat at a bar table up against the window, bouncing her heel where her foot sat on one of the stool rungs. Before her was a walkman and a spread of cassette tapes. They laid out, overflowing from a brown paper bag in neon, clear, black, and white. 

Byulyi glanced up and did a double take, mouth opening in surprise when she recognized Wheein. “Oh!” She pulled off her bulky headphones, mouth tugging into a smile. It was shy but inviting. “Hi.”

Wheein felt herself smile. “Hi.”

“Shopping?”

She lifted her basket in answer. Wheein wondered why she was so nervous all of a sudden. “You?”

Byulyi’s nose wrinkled up in distaste. “I missed my bus and came inside for something to eat. The instant tteokbokki is really good here.” She gestured to the empty microwaveable dish. “I almost licked the plate.” 

Wheein kept to herself that she probably would’ve. 

“Uh.” Byulyi looked around at the table before settling on the walkman. She picked it up, giving it a little shake. “Can I show you something?”

“Okay.” Wheein sat down on a stool beside her. Byulyi was shy to meet her eye as she handed over the headphones. They were an old model, beat up and worn but fashionable in their age. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Wheein set the headphones in place. Music started playing and she listened. The words weren’t in English (maybe French?), but the instrumentation was nice. Dated, but nice. It complimented the singer’s voice. Even if Wheein didn’t understand what he was saying, she could feel the emotion of it. 

“Huh?” Wheein removed one of the ears when she saw Byulyi’s lips moving. 

“Do you like it?” she asked again, eyes intense and searching. “The style reminds me of your song. It’s about heartbreak but it’s unknown if he’s talking about a lover or something else.”

“You can speak French?”

“Google can.” She grinned. Wheein laughed and took off the headphones once the song was done. Byulyi took them back and draped them over the back of her neck. “Cool?”

“Yeah. I liked it.”

Byulyi’s eyes lit up. “Me, too.”

“Why cassettes?” she asked. 

Byulyi shrugged. “When I was little, my dad would buy one everywhere we went. My mom would get mad because he’d get distracted at the record store on the way home from the market. This was his.” She tapped on the walkman, smiling fondly at the piece. “You start to mimic your parents, huh?”

A jolt went through Wheein’s stomach. Ironically, that was true. In so many strange ways. “Yeah.”

“Were they musicians, too?”

She laughed causing Byulyi to cock a confused eyebrow at her. She waved a hand. “Not even close.” 

“Ah, the family rebel.”

Wheein didn’t think of herself that way but maybe she sort of was. Training was the farthest away from what she expected or her family expected her to do. It separated her from them in a way that helped to define herself apart from them. She was happy for that. Even if she was still trying to figure out who and where she fit into the world now. 

“If you’re asking if I dressed in all back and wore heavy eyeliner, no.”

Byulyi’s laugh faded when her phone started to ring. She wrinkled her brow when she saw the name on the screen. “I have to take this.”

“I should go.” She needed to satisfy the beast in her stomach and feed the monster waiting back at home. She got up. 

“Wait.” Byulyi popped open the walkman and took out the tape. “Take it.”

“I couldn’t-“

Dropping it into the paper bag, she put a few of the others inside and handed it over. “Keep them all. I have so many my friends would be happy I got rid of some.”

“Okay.” Wheein took the bag. “Bye, I guess.”

“Bye.” 

-/-/-/-

She knew they had one. Or maybe she tossed it during the move. Surely she held onto it. It was Hyejin’s, after all, the queen of hoarding items that held no purpose other than the nostalgia it brought. 

“Aha!”

She found the old CD/Cassette stereo in the storage closet under a pile of junk they never found room for in their tiny, box of an apartment. 

She set it up on the floor near an outlet where she dumped out the bag of tapes Byulyi gave her. They were all sorts of genres and languages. Some of the labels were scratched off while others were handwritten in with pen. Wheein chose the one Byulyi showed her before, hit rewind, and let it play. 

Her palms began to itch the longer she listened. The urge to pull out her dusty music journal and write something bubbled in her gut. She wondered if that was why Byulyi listened to this. She wondered if it compelled her to do the same.

“Wheein!” Hyejin’s voice echoed through the apartment with the shut of the front door. 

“Huh?”

“Wheein!” She yelled again. 

“I’m in here.”

“Wheein!” She flung the bedroom door open. “I- what are you listening to?”

She hit stop and looked up. “Music?”

“On what?” She kicked a toe at the stereo. 

Wheein rolled her eyes and batted her foot away. “What do you want?”

“Why are you blushing?”

If she wasn’t before she was now. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Crouching on the floor, she picked up one of the cassettes, eyeing it like a primitive object. “What is this?”

Snatching the tape away, she cradled it close to her. “Hyejin!”

She chuckled and crossed her legs on the floor. “Guess what.”

“What?

Hyejin beamed so large it made her eyes crinkle. “I got a callback.”

“Really?”

“It’s this weekend. If I get in, I’ll start rehearsals in the next few weeks. Oh! They gave me the script. It’s amazing! And it pays.”

“How much?”

She mumbled some numbers that were barely anything. “Hey, but listen. If it does well, the show might tour and I’d be paid for that.”

Wheein’s heart picked up. “Where?”

“I don’t know.” She waved a dismissive hand, letting it go as something insignificant. “We’d probably go to Seoul or Busan. That wasn’t discussed.”

Wheein relaxed. Seoul wasn’t too bad. Anywhere around Korea wasn’t awful though it was hard to imagine being without Hyejin for longer than a few days. Even in their toughest patches, they never separated. Wheein was dependent on Hyejin in a way embedded so deep that having her gone would be like taking parts out of her. 

“Okay,” she said, pushing the darker thoughts to the back of her mind. She didn’t need to worry about that now. Hyejin might not even get in. There was still so much pending and unpredictable. She should be happy for her regardless. She was getting something she wanted and the least Wheein could do was support her. “Good luck.” 

“You’re supposed to say ‘break a leg’, dummy.”

“Why would I say that?”

“You don’t know anything.” Picking up a cassette, she hit Wheein in the forehead with it. “Seriously, what are you listening to?”

“Get out!”

Hyejin skipped out of the room, laughter painting the walls. 

-/-/-/-

She found herself at a resale shop one afternoon. The smell of old books and dust reminded her of the stuffiness of practice rooms, and oddly enough, it felt like a sort of home. 

Following aisle signs, she came up on the music section filled with instrument books, CDs, vinyls, and cassettes. They were cheap - only cents each. Wheein fingered through them, plucking out one or two here, three or four there. They rattled in her hand basket as she went to the front to cash out. 

She felt silly watching the girl ring her up. What was she doing? She wasn’t sure, but her gut was doing excited flips.

“Hello again.”

A glint of silver flickered in her peripheral. Wheein coughed out a laugh when she turned to find Byulyi standing in the line behind her, a batch of CDs in hand. “Coincidence or should I call the police?”

“There’s always fate.” She flashed a smile and Wheein rolled her eyes and stepped aside for Byulyi to check out. “Find anything you liked?”

She glanced down at her bag of cassettes. “I guess I’ll find out when I listen.”

Byulyi smiled. “Would you like to get coffee? I heard there’s a good coffee shop close by.”

“There is.” Wheein had stopped there a number of times.

“Show me?”

Wheein didn’t know why but she said, “Sure.”

-/-/-/-

She ordered her usual latte while Byulyi got a chai tea.

“I don’t like coffee,” she said when she caught Wheein’s curious look. 

They settled in a booth by the window. She let Byulyi talk while she blew off steam and took sips between exchanges. Sitting with Byulyi created a strange feeling. Wheein was never the social type but it had been ages since she’d done something like this with someone who wasn’t Hyejin. 

The largest number of friends she acquired was during training but even then she kept a distance knowing that some would drop and others would become competitive. The only others were the girls she was meant to debut with and the hopes of being a group like a family who leaned on each other were dashed all too quickly.

Having a coffee with Byulyi brought into perspective how isolated she’d been her whole life. Her world held only her and Hyejin in it with little regard to others. Being here, sipping on a latte, having casual conversation with a stranger was the oddest thing but it was...pleasant. 

“What?” Byulyi asked, stopping herself mid-sentence when she saw Wheein staring. 

Wheein shook her head and placed her mug down. “You said you buy tapes for writing?”

“Don’t you think our grandparents were more romantic? The words in old songs mean more than they do now. I want to write like that.”

“What kind of writer are you?”

“The poetic kind.”

“So, you’re a poet.”

“In a way.” She grinned that grin and Wheein blinked away. Not many people smiled at her. Especially not like that. “That’s part of why I came here for vacation.”

“Vacation?” Wheein’s brows lifted. Where they lived wasn’t a tourist town. 

“That’s why,” she said, simply. “I wanted to relax. You can’t do that with an itinerary. Better inspiration that way.”

Wheein nodded. She understood that. The pressure to come up with new things always seemed to short-circuit her brain. When she could breathe, and she could be, and she could feel, that’s when she pulled out her music journal the most. 

“What do you like to do here?” asked Byulyi, sitting back in her seat. She looked a little more comfortable now, head tilted in curiosity. The light through the window turned her silver hair white as the moon. Wheein still thought it was an odd color to pick. 

“I don’t go out much.”

“Boring.”

“What?”

“Do you want to come with me?”

Wheein dribbled the coffee in her mouth, struck sudden by the request. Her face burned at Byulyi’s light chuckle. She quickly cleaned herself up with a napkin. “Where?”

“Anywhere.” She shrugged and Wheein had a flutter of deja vu. “I want to hear you play again.”

The warm ease she felt turned into ice. “I don’t play anymore.”

“So, your performance at the cafe must’ve been prerecorded?”

Wheein laughed. “I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“But you did.”

She did and it felt amazing, something she couldn’t deny. Her palms started to prick and sweat just thinking about playing again. Playing alone for only Byulyi made her stomach twist up uncomfortably. It was one thing to have Hyejin or the people in the cafe listening to her. Hyejin already knew her heart while those strangers had probably forgotten about the shy girl that strummed some notes and sang some lyrics meaningless to them. With Byulyi, it was different. Only her and Wheein, heart spilled out and open. She was afraid to open up that part again, but for some reason when Byulyi said-

“Oh! I know a place!”

-Wheein went with her. 

-/-/-/-

They ended up at a music store. Wheein had passed it in her travels before but never dared to go in no matter how it called out to her. The smell inside reminded her of the music rooms she used to spend hours in. It was comfortable and familiar. Wheein found herself breathing it in. 

“Don’t they have booths you can test out instruments in?” Byulyi said more to herself than Wheein who followed after. “Wait here.”

Wheein watched her skip off. The last time she came to a store like this was when her aunt took her when she was thirteen and she picked out her guitar. Her eyes scanned the models that sat along racks and in boxes and set on display on the walls. They were beautiful and tempting. Just as tempting as the glossy, grand piano that sat in the center of the store. Wheein hadn’t touched keys in so long. She had so many memories being at those keys. 

“I found someone,” said Byulyi returning with an associate, smiling as if she found the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

“Which one would you like to try?” they asked. 

“Try?”

“What instrument?” said Byulyi. 

Wheein blinked. She wasn’t ready for-

“What are your top selling guitars?” Byulyi asked for her. “Maybe you’ll see one you like?”

There _were_ many models she liked. They were all so beautiful but it wasn’t the guitars that grabbed her attention. 

“No,” she said. “I want to play that.”

The associate followed her eyes to the grand. “That is for display but we have an upright in one of our booths.”

“Okay.”

Walking toward the back, the associate let them into the booth with a key. “Maximum of thirty minutes.”

The door shut on their leave, thrusting them into stark silence. 

“Go on. Sit,” said Byulyi. 

The bench creaked as she sat down. Black and white ivories blared up at her, enticing her with their glossy sheen. Wheein ran her fingers along them, admiring the cool smoothness beneath her fingers. Wow, it had been years. So many years. 

“I- I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“No disclaimers.” Byulyi smiled from where she stood against the wall, hands in her pockets. She took one out to gesture. “Go on.” 

Wheein gave a nervous laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Why?”

Wheein shook her head.

“Would it be better if I sat?”

“Please?”

Rounding the bench, Byulyi sat with her. Wheein pretended she was just another observation instructor and took a breath. Fingers curved over the keys, she pressed down. Chords erupted in beautiful harmony. It spread goosebumps on Wheein’s arms. She forgot she could play like this. 

The notes came to her easily, spilling out of her fingers like a memorized prayer. She saw sheet music on the back of closed lids, hitting dynamics and dropping in ornamentation where she knew they went. Her voice carried in second, buzzing softly atop the instrumentation and Wheein was caught up in it all. 

She played through chorus and verses and held her fingers down, letting the notes ring out then silenced it with the lift of her hands. 

And in that silence, Wheein was able to breathe - something she hadn’t been able to do. 

“Wow,” Byulyi whispered beside her, tone dripping with awe. “You’re so good.”

“It’s okay.” She clasped her hands in her lap. 

“No, you’re good.” Byulyi turned to look at her. Her gaze was so deep and probing and her eyes were wide and admiring. “Why did you stop playing?”

She searched for something to say. Something that justified locking up her music in the closet and banning it from her mind. She tried to find the reasoning behind her decisions back then and why running away from the thing that had saved her was the right choice to make. Looking back now, Wheein wasn’t sure. It was foolish. It was based out of pain and nothing more. But that pain had begun to subside and now, allowing herself to play again, she was finding healing in the notes. She was finding a release. 

“I thought I had to,” she said. 

“Go back. Do it again. Something like that shouldn’t be wasted.” Byulyi said it like it was so easy. 

Familiar fears flared up once again. “I’m not sure.”

“Why not? What are you afraid of?”

That somehow it would be ripped from beneath her again? But how could that be when she was the only one standing in her way?

That she wouldn’t be good enough to make it outside of cafe open mic nights and private shows in the back of music stores? But how could that be the ending if she didn’t even try?

That no one would care. But how when it wasn’t for them she did it for but herself?

“Say you will,” said Byulyi. She looked her right in the eye. “Say you’ll go back.”

Wheein couldn’t stop herself from saying, “I will.”

-/-/-/-

Hyejin was standing at the door when she walked inside. “Where have you been?”

“Out?”

“You go out?”

“I have to to get away from you.”

Hyejin punched her in the shoulder and shut the front door. “Ask me how callbacks went.”

Wheein smiled. Always so impatient. “How were call backs? Are you hungry?”

“Yes, but listen!” Hyejin bounced her way after Wheein into the kitchen. “I didn’t get into the show but there was someone else there who was looking for people to join his troupe.”

Putting the tapes aside, Wheein went for the pantry. “What? A what?”

“An acting troupe,” she emphasized the syllables as if she were talking to a child with the vocabulary of a toothbrush. “It’s a group of people who put on shows. One of the lead directors was there. They want to see my reel.”

“You don’t have one.”

Hyejin hopped onto the counter. “An old workmate is going to help me put some pieces together to record.”

“Then what?”

Hyejin shrugged, taking the bag of rice from Wheein to fill the cooker. “The director said he’d send it to a couple of people he knew.”

“Seriously?” Wheein deadpanned. 

Hyejin glared. “What do you mean, ‘seriously’?”

“Remember all of those other companies we tried for before we found a good one?”

They were silly to think it was going to be easy. Tales of people who were scammed out of their money and companies with dictatorship like contract terms were discouraging and scary for a twelve-year-old and two families who had never ventured into the trainee-idol world. They ran into recruiters who never passed their information along and dishonest businessman who handed them cards to places that didn’t quite offer what it was they were talking up. 

Hyejin’s lips pressed into a line. “This isn’t like that. It’s not a scam.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know!” Arms crossed over her chest. “Why aren’t you excited for me?”

Wheein paused what she was doing. She could feel it again - that tightening in her chest and the shortness of breath that hit her whenever Hyejin brought up anything that hinted to her possible leaving. She wasn’t sure if it was fear or jealousy or some other sort of vial emotion that she tried to hold down. Whatever it was, it was selfish. She could see how excited Hyejin was. She could see how much she wanted it. 

Wheein tried to control the venom in her voice. “I am but I worry.”

“Worry? About me?” she scoffed. “Who was always saving whose ass?”

Wheein rolled her eyes and flipped on the stove. “I just don’t want you to be somewhere that doesn’t treat you right.”

“I can look after myself.”

She snorted. “Yeah, you can.”

“What does that mean?” Hyejin prodded. Wheein bit her tongue, stopping the snappy comment that wanted to fly. 

“Nothing.” She deflected the tension by swatting Hyejin’s thigh with a spatula. “Help me chop.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

-/-/-/-

She sat on the floor, guitar beside her and journal on the coffee table. A pen twirled in her fingers over a page of scribbled notes and choppy lyrics. Making up music wasn’t as easy as it used to be and Wheein had half a mind to stuff her journal back into the box she dug it out from and forget about it. 

But she couldn’t.

Byulyi awakened something in her. She filled Wheein’s mind with lyrics and notes and inspirations that made her restless. She turned the gears in her mind and dusted off the machines that set dormant for years untouched and unexplored. The antsy beast did not settle until she gave into it.

Muffled music grew louder when Hyejin came out of her room. Her heavy steps padded through the apartment into the living room where she sank onto the couch behind Wheein, legs crossed beneath her.

“Are you busy?”

“No.”

“How do you like the name Jin?”

“Jin?”

“Yeah, or HyeGi.”

Wheein’s nose wrinkled in disgust. That was worse. “What is this for?” she craned her neck back on the cushion. Hyejin had her phone in hand, thumbs tapping out something in the screen with eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“I’m trying to come up with a stage name.”

Wheein remembered how the girls would discuss that in practice. They came up with the most absurd things but that seemed to be the trend. Once, they thought about calling themselves various fruits. It was funny until they started to use the names in mock, group announcements and introductions. Wheein wondered what they ended up deciding without them. 

“What’s wrong with your real name?” she asked. 

“It’s plain. If I’m going to be a performer, I need something that matches.” Snapping her fingers, she sat up, board straight. “Like Hwasa!” 

Wheein laughed. “Hwasa? What does that even mean?”

“I like it,” Hyejin grumbled. Leaning forward, she laid out on the couch on her side, prodding Wheein in the head with the edge of her phone. “What would your name be?”

“I wouldn’t change it.”

“Yeah, Wheein is already weird enough.”

“You fell for this weirdo.”

She feigned a gag. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Jumping off the ground, Wheein attacked her. Hyejin shrieked, arms going up too slow to defend herself from the dead weight of a body that landed on top of her. She wiggled around, trying to throw Wheein off, but she stayed balanced, holding Hyejin pinned on her back to the couch. 

“You were saying?”

“You’re an animal.”

Wheein snapped her teeth at her. Hyejin flicked her in the nose earning a whimper. She grinned victoriously. “What were you writing?”

Wheein peered over at her journal of scribbles. “A song...I think.”

Hyejin gave a hum and twirled a finger into Wheein’s hair. “You’ve been playing a lot lately.” 

“You don’t like it?”

Hyejin’s eyes softened the way they did when she was speaking from her heart. “I like you playing again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Fingers slipped into her hair, combing through it leisurely. Wheein leaned into the touch. They hadn’t done this in a while. It felt nice to be close to Hyejin again, to have her touching her again. Lately, she felt so far away. “I saw the group on TV. They’re doing well.”

“Those traitors.”

Hyejin chuckled but there was sadness twisted in the corners of her mouth. “Did you really like it?”

There was a heaviness in her tone and a serious draw to her face. They didn’t talk a lot about those things. Especially not Hyejin. It must’ve been the way their lives were currently leading that was bringing it all back. In a sense, they were trainees again. Hyejin, starting from point A with auditions and Wheein being romanced back into the scene. 

Wheein laid her cheek against Hyejin’s chest, arms curving as much as they could around her. She wasn’t sure if she could say she liked what they did but she knew she appreciated it. She knew it wasn’t just for the hell of it. They set out for a reason and happened to take to it. They set out for an escape and happened to find a love for things they never knew they had a knack for. 

“It saved us,” she answered, honestly. 

Some might think it was stupid for them to use training as a means to runaway. They might say they deserved to be kicked out because their hearts were never set on it in the first place. For a while, Wheein felt that way. They could’ve done anything else. Packed up and hitchhiked out of there, asked to live with distant relatives, be shipped off to boarding school overseas. Each one would’ve saved them in their own way, but that wasn’t the hand they chose. 

“I always felt selfish for making you come with me.”

“What else would I do?”

“See, that’s why. You’d follow me off a building without thinking twice.”

Wheein picked her head up, eyebrows pulled in. Wasn’t It obvious? Didn’t Hyejin know? “You’re my best friend.”

“But what do _you_ want?”

“I want to be with you.”

Hyejin’s smile was wry as she stroked her hair with a tenderness only she could show. “Besides that.”

“I…” She didn’t have anything to say. 

Not when her entire life had been centered around one individual. Not when she based her decisions on those of another. Not when she hinged her life for years and years to come on one girl. 

Deep inside, Wheein could feel the panic. She could taste how terrible that was of her. She was no one on her own and she had never really stopped to think about what happiness looked like outside of Hyejin simply because she had made Hyejin her happiness while everything else stacked on was a consolation prize. 

But lately, when she laid in bed, playing back their conversations and reanalyzing the light and the exuberance and the life that shined out of Hyejin when she talked about what and where she could be next, Wheein found herself asking: _“what about me?”_

“Wheein.”

Her eyes found Hyejin’s. There was pain in her expression. Wheein wasn’t sure if it was her own or for her. “Yeah?”

“Let’s make a promise.”

“About?”

“That we’ll be better than we were. No more giving up or getting by. Whatever happens, we won’t let anything stop us from getting what we want.” 

Wheein’s mouth had gone dry, but she couldn’t argue. Hyejin was right. “Okay.”

Hyejin touched her lips to hers. “Okay.” 

-/-/-/-

Wheein leaned back in a booth, can of beer in hand. Byulyi stretched out long ways, back up against the wall and legs on the seat. Condensation dripped off the can onto her leather jacket as she took a sip. 

The atmosphere was mellow. Music played over the speakers in a dated genre. Wheein didn’t mind while Byulyi hummed to it. 

“I’m going back to Seoul at the end of the week,” said Byulyi. Wheein felt a wave of sadness. She’d grown fond of Byulyi. She was good company. “There’s a new project the director wants me on and can’t afford to have me gone any longer.” She sucked her teeth in mild annoyance. “They should hire someone else.”

“What’s the project?”

Byulyi held up a finger. “That’s company clearance only.”

Wheein narrowed her eyes. That was the first she heard of a company. “Why don’t you tell me what you do?”

“There’s something impersonal talking work with new friends. It makes it seem like I want something.”

Wheein laughed. “You made me play for you and asked me to go back, that’s wanting something.”

Byulyi cocked an eyebrow. “Will you keep your promise?”

Wheein stilled. There were so many things in her mind lately. So many questions and directions and emotions. She got that thrill to compose again but each time the thought came she was met with doubts and hesitations. 

“It’s...hard for me,” she whispered. 

“Why?”

“I used to be a trainee.” She hadn’t said those words to anyone. They felt like razors coming out of her mouth. “I was for five years and was supposed to debut.”

“Wow.” Byulyi’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. Legs dropping to the floor, she sat upright. “I had no idea.”

Wheein gulped her beer in attempts to wash away her nerves. “It’s not something I talk about.”

“Why did you quit?”

“I didn’t,” she muttered through her teeth. The impact of speaking of it out loud brought a wave of hurt in the form of anger into her gut. 

“I’m sorry…”

Wheein brushed it off with an empty smile. It was Byulyi’s fault and she wouldn’t shove those burdens onto her. “I haven’t played since then until now. I regret it.”

“Playing again?”

Wheein shook her head. “Giving up.”

Byulyi leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. “What if someone offered you a position right now. What if they told you they would make you famous with no chance of failure? Would you take it?”

Wheein thought about it for a moment. Would she? 

“No,” she answered honestly. “I don’t want to be famous.” That was Hyejin’s wish and dream. Wheein didn’t care much about the lights and the paparazzi and the fan signs. She just cared about how it made her feel. Important. Alive. Whole...happy. “I just want to make music.”

She just wanted to be happy. 

Byulyi smiled. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Wheein knocked her can against hers. 

-/-/-/-

Wheein turned the tape recorder around in her hands. She had never used one before. Sitting on her bed with an open package of cassette tapes and a player circa 1989 made her feel like a wannabe hipster and a clueless Millennial.

There were minimal buttons on the front. Rewind, fast forward, play, stop, record, open. Simple enough, she figured. Hit open, put the tape in, hit record. Did she need to put it on side A or side B? Side A made the most sense. 

Sliding in the cassette, she closed the lid and grabbed her guitar. She felt sort of ridiculous with the set up. She was used to recording booths with pop filters and fancy equipment. Even back when she was eleven and Hyejin had that cool recording program on her computer she felt fancier than this. 

But there was something simplistic in what she was doing now. Something that felt like a start. Something new. 

Getting comfortable, Wheein hit record. The knobs began to spin, tape coiling from one side to the other. At least she could redo it if she messed up. 

“My name is Jung Wheein,” she started then giggled. It was weird talking into nothingness. “I’m going to play a song for you.” For you? Who was you? Never mind. “I mean- uh- yeah. Here it is.”

What a disaster. 

She cleared her throat, hand tapping on the guitar face as she counted. “One, two, three, four-“

And she played. 

-/-/-/-

“Where is this place?”

Wheein rolled her eyes. “We’re almost there.” 

Hyejin grumbled a snarky remark. Wheein ignored her and kept walking. She could see the cafe’s illuminated sign shining bright and inviting just up ahead. Nerves fluttered in her stomach and the hand around the strap of her guitar case got sticky. But as they walked inside, Wheein had a jolt of excitement she hadn’t the last time she entered. 

The crowd was a little larger than before. There was already someone performing on the stage - a group of four, three guys and a girl, each with melodic voices as they played an acoustic set. They were good. The crowd thought so, too, phones out recording and listening intently. 

“Whoa,” Hyejin said behind her. 

Wheein grinned smug. She knew Hyejin would like it. “Find us a table? I’ll order.”

Splitting off, Wheein made her way over to the counter. 

“You’re back,” greeted the barista. 

Wheein bid her hello and ordered her and Hyejin drinks. “Is it too late to sign up?”

“We have a few spots open,” he said and let her know they’d bring their drinks to the table. 

Writing her name on the list, Wheein went to join Hyejin. She chose a table near the front, close enough to the stage that nothing else could distract them from the performers. That’s how Hyejin was. She liked being front and center even if things had nothing to do with her. Wheein felt slightly uncomfortable, maneuvering to her seat with her guitar. The keyboardist on stage found her eye and smiled a wide, double dimpled smile, when she saw her instrument. Wheein sat down, ducking her head shyly. 

“Nice, huh?” 

“I’ve never been here. How did you find it?”

“Pin board.”

Hyejin smirked. 

Their drinks arrived and Wheein did a sweep of the room. There was no silver present. She sipped her drink and turned back to the stage. With each performance, Wheein grew more nervous. More people came in and acts Grew seemingly better as they went on. Her throat was dry and her insides buzzing when- 

“Jung Wheein,” her name was called. Heads swiveled, looking for the face attached to the name. Applause started when she stood up, cheeks red from the overwhelming amount of attention. 

Hyejin’s mouth opened in surprise. “Really?”

“Really.” 

She grabbed her guitar and took to the stage, situated on a stool. It was different than last time. She had a song, a few days of practice, and a new instilled push to do something. Her eyes looked the crowd over once more. She wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t see her in the crowd. Wheein wasn’t here for Byulyi. She was here for herself in thanks of Byulyi. 

“Hi,” she said into the mic. “This song is for my best friend.” She smiled at Hyejin in the crowd. Hyejin offered her one back, wrinkles in the corner of her eyes and teeth flashed bright. 

Wheein drew strength in that smile and she used it to carry her through the song. The words were about their past and their present. The pains, the heartaches, the laughs, and the few shining moments that kept them from drowning. 

She let her heart go in front of strangers and let it rest in Hyejin’s hands who watched her through sparkling eyes in the crowd. In the moment their eyes locked, Wheein felt something align. Not between them, but for each of them separately. Somehow, they were both finding their way back. Slowly, they were getting that same fire that made them want to run away all those years ago. 

Her legs were heavy when she stood up. After giving her bows and thanks, Wheein left the stage and returned to her seat. She heart was racing and her body felt light and tingly. 

“Is that new?” asked Hyejin. 

“Yeah.” Her smile slid off. Hyejin was giving her an odd look. Wheein couldn’t figure it out but it made her insides fuzzy. “What?” 

She shook her head and drew her attention back to the stage.

It wasn’t until they left the cafe, walking side-by-side in the cold, dark night that Hyejin finally told her. 

“The only time I’ve seen you smile that way is the first time I kissed you.” Wheein stiffened when those all too knowing eyes fell on her. There was sadness there. More for Wheein than it was for herself. “You didn’t let me go so why did you let this?”

"You know why."

Because some things were easier to hold than others and some things didn't leave scars the way others did.

Hyejin looped their arms together. "Let's go home."

-/-/-/-

Her foot tapped impatiently against the pavement. It was cold. Her scarf and gloves were doing little to keep out the chill, but she waited. People and buses came and went. Wheein started to think she missed her but on the chance she didn’t, she stayed a while longer. 

“Fate or coincidence?”

“Oh!” Wheein startled and got up when she saw Byulyi standing beside her. “Hi. Uh...neither?”

Silver blew in the wind, grazing cheeks gone pink in the cold. A crooked smile spread on her face. “How did you know I would be here?”

“This route goes to the airport.”

”Ah. Talented and smart.”

Wheein laughed. She’d blame the wind on the color in her cheeks. “Here.”

Byulyi looked curiously at the brown paper bag Wheein held out to her before taking it into her hands. “What’s-“

“Don't open it!” Wheein stopped her. She drew back her hand that grabbed Byulyi’s wrist to keep her from opening the bag. “Not yet. Save it for the flight.”

Byulyi smirked. “Will this get me arrested?”

“Huh? No! It’s harmless.”

“Okay. I won’t open it.” She held up her pinkie. “Promise.”

Wheein looped her finger around Byulyi’s. Strange. Sometimes Byulyi made her feel some of the same things Hyejin did. 

“I feel bad. I don’t have anything for you.”

“You already gave it to me.”

Creases formed in Byulyi’s forehead. “Hm?”

She was too embarrassed to say what she meant. She wasn’t sure if could without coming across weird and insane. She didn’t know how to tell Byulyi how she threw a match beneath her. How she created a regained sense of excitement and possibility. How she managed to be something of a friend outside of the only person she truly knew and trusted and adored. 

Wheein wasn’t sure why any of that was or why there was an odd sense of loss knowing she would probably never see Byulyi again. But maybe she didn’t have to because what she left behind was good enough. 

“Thank you,” she said for lack of better words. 

“For what?”

“Just, thank you.” Wheein offered a smile. “Have a safe flight.”

She turned to go.

“I’ll remember you!" Byulyi called out to her back. 

 But Wheein kept walking. 

-/-/-/-

She was sitting on the couch with her journal when Hyejin got home. She walked through the apartment quietly, going to her room to change, stopping by the bathroom, and checking the fridge before she entered the living room and flipped down with her. 

“Wheein.”

“Huh?”

“Wheein.”

“Hmm?”

“Pay attention to me.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” A hand snatched her journal away. 

“Hey!” Wheein growled. She took it back and pouted. “What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Okay? Bye.” She rolled her eyes. Hyejin didn’t move. Hyejin didn’t play along. Hyejin didn’t stop looking at her. “What?”

“I said I’m leaving. I’m moving out. I’m leaving.”

Wheein blinked. She laughed. She waited for Hyejin to have a punchline but she didn’t and suddenly everything felt wobbly. “What do you mean you’re moving out?”

“Remember when I had to make that reel? I submitted It and the lead director sent it to a few friends. Someone liked it and I got an offer.”

“Oh.” Wheein knew it was coming. Had always. Hyejin was too good to rot away into nothing. “Okay.”

But there was more and Wheein wasn’t ready. 

“I’m moving to the States.”

Wheein’s whole world stopped. “What?”

“I’ll be here for three more months and then I’m going to LA.”

Wheein felt dizzy. “No, you’re not.”

“There’s a really good program there and-“

Reality clicked into place. 

“No!” Wheein stood up. Hyejin flinched back from her. “You’re not going to the States. No, Hyejin. You- you can’t. How could you?”

“I told you-“

“Seoul is one thing.” Wheein snapped. She couldn’t hold It back anymore. She couldn’t stop all of the grief and terror and pain and envy from boiling over. “You said you would stay _here._ In the country.”

“That was for something different. What they’re offering me is better.”

“So?”

“Why are you acting like this?” Hyejin blanched. There was a glimmer of tears in her eyes. Wheein’s throat tightened knowing she was the one causing them but she was too selfish in the moment to care. “You should be happy for me!”

“I am happy, I-” she deflated. “Hyejin.”

“Yes?”

“Hyejin,” she heaved, voice high pitched and breathy. She didn’t know what else to say. Her hands were shaking and her heart was racing and her mind was reeling though the past, present, and future with Hyejin that came to a sudden halt. “Why?”

Hyejin’s voice was soft. “I want this.”

“And me?” Her voice cracked. That’s when she knew she was crying. Thick, weighty drops, rolling down her cheeks. 

“You know you’re my best friend.”

 _But nothing else,_ was what Wheein wanted to say. She kept it in. That was wrong to say. It wasn’t the truth. “I can’t do this right now.”

She started toward the hall, Hyejin right in her heels. “You know I would take you if I could.”

“We made a promise,” she bit, whipping around in her. 

Hyejin met her for the challenge. “We were kids!”

“That makes it useless?”

“We were scared and stupid and desperate.” 

“I kept it for you.” And never thought twice. 

“Maybe we should let it go.”

Wheein’s mouth clicked shut. She couldn’t believe she hit said that. After all this time? After everything they’d been through? After everything they said and felt and built together? Just like that, it all came crumbling down into a pile of rubble. 

“I don’t want to be stuck here,” her voice cracked. Her all cracked.

If there was anything Wheein hated It was seeing Hyejin cry. She was always so strong. She was trying to be strong but Wheein wasn’t letting her. She didn’t want to let her. She wanted to fight and fight and fight back even though she knew she wasn’t going to win. Even though she knew Hyejin was going to go and she would remain. Here. Alone. 

“What am I going to do without you?”

“We have to grow up, Wheein.” She sniffed, hands coming up to cutie wipe tears from her face. “We made a promise back then but we also made a promise that we wouldn’t let anything stop us from getting what we want. I meant anything.”

“Am I a burden to you?”

“No! Wheein, look at me.” She took her face into her hands. Wheein wanted to rip away and watch how it stabbed at Hyejin but she stood firm. She would soak in as much of Hyejin as she could. “How I feel about you is something I’ve never felt, but I don’t want to be unhappy anymore.” Tears dropped down her cheeks. “Can’t I have that?”

“Hyejin...I love you.”

She saw the words roll through her like needles. Her face paled and her lips parted at the suddenness and the weight in which Wheein said It. So vulnerable and full of conviction. Wheein never said it before. Hyejin never said it. They were always too scared to. And this was why. Because they already knew how finely woven their hearts were and the smallest of things would destroy them from the inside. 

Hyejin’s shoulders shook. She was breaking down more and more. She could barely get the words out when she spoke again. “You’re my everything but that’s not enough.”

The splinters in her chest buckled, breaking the remains. She couldn’t do this anymore. 

Wheein pushed Hyejin’s hands away. 

“Wheein!” 

She slammed the door shut. 

Everything with Hyejin ended after that. 

 


	4. Emerald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The emerald is said to bring the wearer reason and wisdom. Emerald is used by healers to help heal the heart.

Wheein was four when her grandmother passed away. Much of her memories from that time were fragmented, but she remembered the odd emptiness it left in her. How she knew she wouldn’t be left with her anymore, she wouldn't eat her cooking again, she wouldn’t get to hear strange tales of an era past any longer. She found herself alone for the first time then, trapped in a cage of grief and mourning exuded by her parents who didn’t know the right words to use to console their child.   
  
It felt disrespectful to compare Hyejin to her grandmother. After all, Hyejin wasn’t actually gone, but the chasm she left felt just the same. Wheein didn’t see her anymore, she didn’t hear from her anymore, she didn’t laugh and cry with her anymore. She was stuck in a world of noise that was blind to the grief she carried in her chest and ignorant to the tears that ran down her face in rivers that created oceans of pain she could not seem to soak up.  
  
Fingers curled around her phone. A familiar name shined in her favorite's list. Wheein touched it. The line rang.   
  
_Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is not available..._  
  
She hung up.   
  
Anger poured in like gasoline over the streams and lit up in a fiery blaze of helplessness. Hyejin  _wasn’t_  gone. She wasn’t. Perhaps what made it the more painful was she knew Hyejin was out there, somewhere in the world, touchable but out of reach. She was just out of reach…but no one was reaching back.   
  
That was the sorrow Wheein carried, counting the days-  
  
_363, 364, 365, 366, 367..._  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_376._  
  
Playing in bars was one of her few salvations. She set up her tip jar on the counter and took her space on the stool they let her claim for an hour or two some nights. No one really cared and she was playing a genre she didn’t much like if only because that’s what made patrons dig for the change in their pockets.   
  
The last of the patrons left and Wheein kept playing, eyes closed and fingers moving. It wasn’t until a bartender pulled the plug on the amp, thrusting the bar into silence when she realized.  
  
“I’m closing up,” he said.  
  
Wheein got up and went home just as empty as she came.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_398._  
  
The usual rush swept Wheein into the bus. Her stop for work came and went. She didn’t care to go today. Something else was calling her. Something less stressful and constricting. When the doors opened a couple stops later, she climbed off and started walking.   
  
She hadn’t been back in so long. Not since that stranger who swept into her life like a fluke and dragged her into territories she once thought were painful. Those hurts were nothing compared to the loss she faced months ago.   
  
Wheein followed the clerk to the booths and thanked them for letting her in. Memories flooded her in a bittersweet flavor. She didn’t think she’d ever come back here but it was one of the few places Wheein felt...happy? It was a place untouched by Hyejin but instead held memories of good things. Like reconnecting, restarting, replenishing.   
  
Sitting on the piano bench, she stared at the keys.   
  
Wheein played. She played because that was the only thing Wheein knew, that was the only thing keeping her head afloat, that was the only thing she had left of her that Hyejin was apart of.  
  
Tears dropped onto ivory keys.  
  
Still, Wheein played.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Day 423, Wheein had enough. So did her job with a phone call and a warning that if she kept missing she could forget about ever walking through those doors again.   
  
Cracking open her laptop, she opened up a job search engine. Boredom of the usual and less than flattering notices lead her into the more interesting categories. She searched through ads and listings under the music category, her interests rising and her stomach going fuzzy at the thought of doing something with that. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Just something - anything - and there were a lot of somethings. People wanting songs for their short films, call for a birthday party performer, someone to sing the national anthem at a little league baseball game?   
  
The more she searched the more her chest simmered. Maybe this was something she needed. Maybe it was time to let go of the old and go to something new. Maybe she should stop wallowing and  _do_  something.   
  
Wheein rubbed her eyes. The gigs she scrolled through were nice but if she was going to waste her time doing that she might as well be getting paid reel money for-  
  
Wait.   
  
She scrolled back up to an ad looking for a guitarist to join a band. Wheein clicked the link attached and blinked in surprise. She knew those faces, though the memory was vague and included the one person she would rather not dwell on. But Wheein didn’t forget that double-dimpled smile that found her in the crowd all those months ago. A year ago.  
  
Wheein searched through their official band site. They were called Seventh Sun, an acoustic group who started off doing covers and soon grew into doing their own thing. They didn’t have one set home. They traveled, living mostly out of a van, hotels, or apartments going wherever they pleased. Their fan base wasn’t monumental but it was enough to warrant a few fan pages, decent merchandise, and notable success in the underground market. They were currently gearing up for their spring tour, recently down one body, and in the area.  
  
There was an auditions tab and she clicked on it. All she needed to do was fill it out and hit send. Wheein’s palms itched. The familiar anxiety of putting herself out there turned her skin into pins and needles. Suddenly she wasn’t sure what the hell she was thinking or doing here or reading these ads in the first place but...  
  
What was that Hyejin said to her a year ago?   
  
_“I want you to be happy.”_  
  
Wheein could really use that. She hadn’t been, not really. She’d been existing, floating through space and only doing as much as she needed to survive. And she was tired of surviving.   
  
So Wheein filled out the form, attached a couple of mp3’s of her songs and hit send before she could talk herself out of the crazy idea.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
A weak drizzle of applause followed her performance. Wheein looked across the bar at faces less interested in her and more concerned with the dates they would claim after reaching the bottom of their glasses. She leaned into the mic, breathing a soft, “thank you,” and got up.   
  
Her guitar felt like a weight in her hand as she carried it over to the bar and sat. Grabbing her tip jar, she fished out what little money was thrown in and handed some to the bartender for a drink that slid her way in a frosty glass.   
  
The beer was heady. It soaked into her veins and settled in her stomach in a comforting embrace. She drank until the tips of her toes and fingers were tingling with numbness. And kept going. This was how she liked to spend most of her nights.  
  
Pulling her phone from her pocket, Wheein checked her notifications. No texts. No Facebook messages. No emails. She shoved it back into her pocket. Idiot. She was stupid to think some ammeter like her would catch the eye of people who actually played real music. What was she thinking?  
  
“Should I call a cab?” asked the bartender after she downed another drink.   
  
She waved a hand at him, voice lightly slurred when she answered. “I’ll walk.”  
  
Slapping a bill on the bar, Wheein forced herself to get up and go. Maybe this was all she was good for after all.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Making it to the apartment, Wheein stumbled her way through. It was dark. She didn’t care to turn on any lights and fumbled with hands out, feeling her way around the space into the hall where she stopped. Down the way, Hyejin’s door glared back at her. Mocking her. Laughing at her. Hyejin managed to get out. She didn’t. Once upon a time she used to trap herself up in the empty room, curled up in a blanket on the floor in the space her bed used to be. Now it was making her sick. It and all the remains she left behind in it. Her chest burned. She wanted the girl that was gone. She wanted her to come through the front door and say,  
  
_“I thought you were coming. Pack your stuff, stupid, we have to catch a flight in an hour.”_  
  
She was stupid to hold onto fabrications of hope.  
  
She was stupid to still be hanging onto a shred of a thought that they’d see each other again one day.  
  
She was stupid to think that where Hyejin was, she would be also, loving life, loving each other, loving what they did side-by-side sharing laughs and hardships together.   
  
That thought burned a hole in Wheein’s chest. Nasty, vile, resentment boiled on her insides. Hyejin left her. Hyejin didn’t call her. Hyejin walked out in the night without as much as a goodbye too much of a coward to face her again.   
  
_Fuck_ Hyejin.

Wheein yelled.

The tip jar went flying through the air, shattering against the door. Glass went everywhere, spreading out in crystal shards across the hardwood amongst bills and coins.  
  
The satisfaction of her actions wore off quickly and were replaced with an overwhelming feeling of guilt and apology. Drunken tears filled her eyes as she stumbled to her room and collapsed onto the bed. Rolling into a ball, Wheein cried into her knees until her disgusting reality gave way into sleep.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Grabbing her phone, Wheein turned off the alarm that screamed for her to wake. Morning sunlight greeted her with a new day. A workday. She didn’t feel like going to work. So she decided she wouldn’t despite the warnings.   
  
She wanted to stay in bed longer but her bladder wouldn’t let her. Getting up, she groaned at the pressure in her head and the gross bubbling in her gut. She should stop being so irresponsible.   
  
_Crunch._  
  
Pain shot through her foot and Wheein looked down. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the events of the night before. She shook her head at what the terrible monster she unleashed left on the floor and got a broom and dustpan. Glass clattered as she picked up the remains, careful to get every tiny piece of glass. She was tired of this. She was tired of being angry at Hyejin and feeling sorry for herself and ending numerous day with a false sense of happiness in the form of a bottle.   
  
A chime went off.  
  
Wheein dug her phone out of the pants she never took off the night before. There was a notification email. She nearly dropped her phone when she saw the name of the reply sender.  
  
The message was simple:   
  
_Let’s Meet! :)_  
  
Wheein almost screamed.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The woman’s name was Kim Yongsun and she loved using smiley faces in her messages. Wheein wasn’t sure how to take them as they exchanged texts but she figured it was a good sign.   
  
Getting an address, Wheein logged it into the GPS on her phone and followed it to a restaurant. There were few people inside. Spotting a familiar face near the back, Wheein headed toward the table. Yongsun looked just like her pictures: beautiful, fair skin, and dark hair that fell long down her back.   
  
“Hi,” Wheein said softly.   
  
Eyes switched from a cellphone and lit up when they saw her. “Wheein?”  
  
“Yeah. Yongsun?”  
  
“That’s me.” Getting up, she greeted her, smile wide, bright, and radiant. “Do you want to sit down? Oh. Did you want to order? I think you have to do that at the counter.”  
  
“I’m not hungry.”  
  
“Okay, let’s sit down.”  
  
Wheein slinked into the booth. The first thing she noticed about Yongsun, aside from her sweet sort of beauty, was how smiley she was. All smiles. It was comforting. Wheein found herself able to relax. She hadn’t been able to do that in a long time. Yongsun seemed to naturally draw it out of her.   
  
“I was surprised to hear from you,” she said.  
  
Wheein’s mouth formed an oh of surprise. “You remember me?”  
  
“Yeah! When I saw your email, I replied right away. You’re actually one of the few people I responded to.”Wheein couldn’t hide her shock. She didn’t think she was that rememberable of a person.   
  
“So, since you’re here, I take it you already know what we’re looking for.”  
  
Wheein nodded and Yongsun told her what she couldn’t find on the website. The position was long term as their previous member wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. They weren’t staying in the area for much longer and planned to keep their one year stay and travel schedule for as long as they could. Their goal was to sign at some point but that was something aimed for the future as now they wanted to expand their reach and experience the world while doing what they loved to do.   
  
“Where would we live?” asked Wheein. The thought of being musical nomads was intriguing but worrisome.   
  
“We usually get an apartment or two together and rent it out for a year. When that year is up, we move to the next place. It’s something new we’ve been trying and we like it so far. Have you moved before?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Great! Then you know how that works.”  
  
Wheein sat back in her seat. It was a lot to take in. Her mind was racing. She would have to quit her job, pack up her things, learn three strangers, give up a place called home. Part of her was screaming at her to say no. The part ruled by fear wanted her to stay put, continue to live in her own little bubble and do nothing. The other part of her, the part yearning for more, was filling her head up with possibilities and wonder. She had nothing going for her here, she had no one to hold her back, she had nothing to lose.  
  
“I know it’s sudden and the schedule is erratic,” said Yongsun, sensing her uneasiness. “If you need time to think about it I understand.”  
  
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”  
  
Yongsun nodded in understanding. “We all help each other so you won’t be left on your own. We would only ask you did the same for us since we’re a team.”  
  
_Team._ Wheein’s stomach fluttered. The young, middle school, trainee girl in her was doing somersaults. She always wanted to be part of a team, be part of a family.   
  
“Do I need to audition?”  
  
“I’ve heard your music,” she said, with a shrug. “We’re opening for another band in a few days in the next city over. I can send you the music and you can play with us if you’d like to test it out.”  
  
Wheein blinked. “What?”  
  
Yongsun laughed and waved a dismissive hand as if that would ease the nerves that gripped Wheein’s neck. “The music is easy and we’ll rehearse so don’t worry. This isn’t about if you can play. I want to make sure if you decide to join us, that you’re a good fit. I think it’ll help.” She grinned like a shy, little girl. “And I’d love to have your vocals for some of our songs.”  
  
Wheein couldn’t breathe. This was real. “Oh.”  
  
Yongsun grinned at her speechlessness. “I know you’re not fully decided yet and you don’t have to rush. It’s just we don’t have a lot of time so I’m letting you know everything upfront now.”   
  
Wheein nodded. She understood that.  
  
“Think it over and-“  
  
“I’ll do it.”  
  
“It?”  
  
“I’ll play with you.” She bit her lip. “Can I give you a final answer then?”“Sure! I’ll send you the music and you can come rehearse with us.” Yongsun beamed. “I think you’ll be the perfect fit.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Yongsun’s address led her to an open field. There was nothing else out there aside from a barbed wire fence, sparse trees, and a large travel van.   
  
Wheein was about to call to make sure she was in the right place when Yongsun dropped out of the van’s side door. She waved an arm in the air, motioning Wheein over. The whole set up reminded her of all those teenage horror flicks she and Hyejin used to watch together under covers with a surplus of sugary snacks. This was the part where masked men would jump out with chainsaws and rope and she’d be driven off, never seen again.   
  
“Hey, you made it,” Yongsun greeted. Her perky smile erased whatever horror images came to mind. “I hope you found it okay.”  
  
“Are we rehearsing...out here?” She glanced around. She’d never been on this side of town before. There was no reason to. It was nothing.   
  
“Well, in there out here,” she said, pointing a thumb back to the van. Wheein’s forehead wrinkled and Yongsun laughed at her confusion. “I’ll show you. Come inside.”  
  
Wheein wasn’t ready for what waited inside. There were no chainsaws and butcher knives. Instead, there were the essential items for living. Couch, sink, mini-fridge, microwave, a TV. Sound equipment and instruments were packed away neatly along with suitcases and shoes stocked into cubbies.   
  
Wheein had never been inside a van like that before. She gawked at everything until her eyes rested on the two other people inside sitting on the couch. One held a cajon drum between his knees while the other fiddled around with a beautiful, acoustic guitar.   
  
“Guys, this is Wheein,” Yongsun announced. They turned up to smile at her.   
  
“Nice to meet you,” said the one with the drum.  
  
The other echoed with a, “Welcome.”  
  
Wheein offered a soft, “Hi.”  
  
“This is Chandong and Janghyun, drums and guitar,” Yongsun explained. “We do a lot of our practices in here. Renting spaces isn’t always easy and it keeps us from apartment volume complaints.” Wheein nodded absentmindedly. She was struck once again by the cool interior. Yongsun giggled. “I think she likes it.”  
  
She sank down onto one of the fold up chairs Yongsun sat out for her. “How long have you done this?”  
  
She learned that the idea to form a group was Yongsun’s. She had already been playing with Janghyun for a few years before proposing the idea. They soon sought out two other members and stuck with that for the last four years, brandishing their craft, trying new things, and widening their reach though fame wasn’t their biggest aim.   
  
“We liked playing and we liked playing together,” said Janghyun with a shrug.   
  
Wheein got goosebumps. It was eerie how much she could relate to them.   
  
“Where are you from?” asked Chandong.   
  
“Jeonju.”  
  
“We were thinking about making that one of our stops.”  
  
Janghyun perked up. “Does your family live there? Maybe we can have real beds.”  
  
Yongsun hit him in the arm. Wheein laughed modestly. “Who drives?” she asked.   
  
Chandong waved. “Me and Jang alternate. Yongsun is scared to drive.”  
  
“I hit a traffic cone.”  
  
“It was traumatizing,” Janghyun tagged on.  
  
“Okay, okay, let’s not go there,” Yongsun tried desperately to save her reputation. The boys teased a little more before they let up and the mood shifted back to business. “Since you just got the music, you can sit out for the first run so you get a feel of everything together then join in.”  
  
The nervous prickles returned but they were a little less this time. Yongsun and the others made it a comfortable environment. Nothing felt forced or showy or uptight. They were just a band of friends who truly enjoyed music and what they did.   
  
“Okay,” Wheein said after a moment.   
  
Yongsun smiled and Chandong counted them off. Wheein sat back unable to contain her grin.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein practiced until she hurt. Even after rehearsing with the others the days leading up to the opening, Wheein practiced.   
  
Yongsun was right, the music was simple enough but she could never take anything as simple. She played the three songs in their set over and over and over again until notes bled into her dreams and emitted from her lips in hums as she made breakfast, lunch, and dinner.   
  
“Ah!” She hissed, gripping her wrist. Her joints were getting fatigued. Placing her guitar aside, she allotted herself time to rest.   
  
She didn’t need to keep at it. She knew it. Could play by heart even, but something inside of her wanted to push. Push and push and push. This was a chance for something better and Wheein wanted to put her all into it even if it was just a chance.  
  
The harsh vibration of her phone against hardwood caused her to jump. Swiping it up, she found a text waiting for her.   
  
_-See you for the big day! ;)_  
  
She put the phone down and picked her guitar back up. One more time before bed.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The venue was small but the turnout was enough to make Wheein realize that Yongsun and her group weren’t just nobodies and the acts playing after them had a solid enough fanbase that the room was packed to near max occupancy.   
  
Wheein chewed her lip, hands balled up in the pocket of her jean shorts to hide their quiver. She was more nervous than she’d ever been in front of people who actually had the power to make or break her back then.  
  
“We’re up in ten. How are you feeling?”  
  
“I think she might throw up.” Janghyun eyed her.   
  
Yongsun’s eyes widened in worry. “Are you?”  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
“You don’t think?”  
  
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” She pulled away from Yongsun’s hand that went for her forehead. “I need a minute.”  
  
Pulling away, she walked outside into the open air. It was sticky and humid but it was better than how stuffy it was getting inside. She took in a few calming breaths. This was it. She was doing this.  
  
“Wheein?” Yongsun leaned out the side door, sorry creased in the corner of her eyes. “Are you okay?”  
  
Internally, no. She was freaking out but it was the good sort of freaking out. The kind that came from wanting to do her best and show something of herself to not just them but to her own self.   
  
She nodded and put on a smile. “Ready.”  
  
Yongsun’s beamed. “Okay! Come on!”   
  
Playing with others was a new sort of rush. A new sort of excitement. Their set might’ve been acoustic but it was electric.  
  
Wheein looked out at the crowd. They watched them in amazement as instruments mixed with voices that raised up in harmonies and ad-libs. The sound they created was different and unique to them. Wheein figured that's why people liked them.   
  
That and the genuine purity in which they played. She never felt a connection between her past members the way she felt between Yongsun and the boys. They weren’t trying to gain anything or work toward booming success. They were just being.   
  
That was what Wheein needed. To just be.   
  
She left the stage buzzing. “How was it?”  
  
Wheein couldn’t think past the euphoria running through her veins. She was on a high and soaring higher than she had felt since...since-  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Yongsun’s eyebrow cocked. “Yes?”  
  
“Yes, I’ll- I want to join. Can I?”  
  
“Yes. Yes!” Yongsun threw her arms around her, pulling her into a crushing hug.   
  
That was that. No going back, no second guessing. Wheein was okay with that. After all, she had a promise to keep to someone. And that’s when she realized...she hadn’t been counting days anymore.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_Suwon_  
  
They got a three bedroom apartment, tight and cozy just outside the heart of Suwon. Wheein never lived with anyone other than Hyejin before. She sat back, watching as Chandong and Janghyun lugged heavy boxes into the space while she and Yongsun brought in their suitcases. The place was smaller than she expected but it was a place to stay. A roof and four walls. And people. Something Wheein had been sequestered from for nearly two years. God, she missed Hye-...people.  
  
“Welcome home.” Yongsun took in a long breath through her nose that lifted her shoulders and let it out. “Isn't it nice?”  
  
Wheein looked over at her. Yongsun was smiling the way she always smiled: full and open. The sunlight coming through the window lit up her eyes making them sparkle. Wheein had never met anyone who was as ethereal and open-minded and positive as Yongsun.  
  
“Isn’t it?” she asked again, gaze casting over to Wheein, cheeks rosy and teeth exposed in her smile.  
  
Wheein wasn’t completely sure just yet. All she knew was that she hoped to be as free and light as Yongsun was one day. She wanted to look at herself in the mirror and be able to exude a radiance just like that. She wanted to be dropped into the pits of hell and still be able to stand firm and smile knowing she could fight her way out of it, too.   
  
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Yeah, it is.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
It took a few days, but they were finally all moved in and mostly unpacked. Wheein shared a room with Yongsun while the boys had the other and turned the third room into a sort of studio and storage. She had to admit, the place wasn’t too bad. It was full of people and life and new possibilities. It vibrated a new energy. It was refreshing and exciting.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Cooking.”  
  
“That’s not how you cook.”  
  
“Then you do it!”  
  
“No, it’s your turn!”  
  
“Then get out of the kitchen.” Janghyun shooed him out.  
  
“This is new to you, right?” asked Yongsun.  
  
Wheein nodded. “Are they okay?”  
  
“They do this all the time. You’ll get used to it.”  
  
Wheein watched them a little longer. They oddly reminded her of the way she and Hyejin would mess around in the kitchen. To others, their teasing and banter might’ve seemed rough and harsh but they knew there was nothing but love behind those words.   
  
“Say, hi!” Chandong popped up with a camera in hand. A red light flashed in the top indicating it was recording. Yongsun perked up for the camera while Wheein shrank away, turning her head to avoid the offending lens.   
  
“Don’t be shy,” said Yongsun pulling her closer. “We like to film videos and post them on our page so fans know what we’re up to.”  
  
“Are they live?”  
  
“Not this one. Chan will edit later and put it up.”  
  
Wheein relaxed at that and sat up a little straighter. She let Chandong do his thing, asking Yongsun different questions and joking around with her until she was included.   
  
“Everyone, this is our new member, Wheein.” Yongsun crushed herself against Wheein’s side so their faces were close together. “Say, hi.”  
  
“Hi.” She waved awkwardly drawing a giggle.   
  
Yongsun cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. Her palm was warm and her touch was loving and friendly. “She’s our cutest member.”  
  
“Hey!” Janghyun yelled from the kitchen.  
  
“Besides Janghyun,” she amended and let Wheein loose. “We’re in Suwon now! Make sure to check out our page for our schedule.”  
  
Yongsun blew a kiss and Wheein waved again. Pulling away, Chandong turned the camera on himself and wandered back to the kitchen. The bickering between him and Janghyun started up again, playful and lighthearted.   
  
Wheein watched them. They reminded her of how she and Hyejin were, always arguing over something trivial that would blow over after a few minute when one of them made the other laugh. A lot of those little fights ended up with lips together, hands roaming, and heavy breath coloring the air. It didn’t matter how much they fought or disagreed, they’d come to an agreement and forgive each other in the morning. That’s how it always ways. Until it wasn’t.   
  
“You’re going to drop the camera in the pot!”  
  
“No, I’m not!”  
  
“Chandong be careful!” Yongsun jumped up, rushing into the kitchen.   
  
Wheein laughed as the chaos only grew. Maybe she could get used to this.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Life in Suwon was slow. They didn’t have a lot of performances but Wheein was thankful for the ones they did. It gave her a chance to ease into the group.   
  
They were at a local cafe for the night. It reminded Wheein of the one she wandered into a long while back. She liked playing in cafes. They were intimate settings with little crazy and the occasional fan who asked for a picture. Wheein wasn’t used to that yet. Nor was she used to the flood of people who found her on social media. She had to turn off notifications for how many double taps she was getting on pictures. She’d need to post better and more quality content. There wasn’t much left there since she gutted it of photos that included Hyejin.   
  
“This is our last song,” said Yongsun into the mic. Her eyes looked across the crowd, making sure to see everyone and leave no one behind without a flash of her smile. “We’re Seventh Sun. Thank you for having us.”  
  
Yongsun started with just her voice and keys. Wheein watched her play, eyes closed, lips a breath from the mic and shoulders relaxed. Her voice carried the hopeful message of the song and Wheein found herself drawn into it. They practiced the song many times but Wheein never tired of it. It was the perfect choice as an ending song. It spoke of farewell but not finality.   
  
Janghyun’s voice joined hers midway through and Wheein waited for the last chorus where they all came in, bringing instruments and all of their voices together. When it was over, Wheein felt weightless but heavy. She couldn’t help her mind from drifting to Hyejin. How their farewell felt of finality.   
  
A shoulder bumped into hers, jostling from the depth of her thoughts. “You’re really getting the hang of it.”  
  
“You think so?” She was still worried about her stage presence. The others were so natural, and though she had company training under her belt, it was nothing compared to those who’d been performing together for years and developed a natural flow.   
  
“You’re starting to look more natural.”  
  
“Missing fewer cues, too,” said Janghyun in passing.   
  
Yongsun poked the dimple in her cheek. “Typical Wheein.”  
  
Wheein smiled at their light-hearted teasing. It felt good knowing they were slipping into a comfortability where she could be included in their jokes and teasing. She knew it had only been a few months since she started with them, but she was already beginning to feel like she found a space she belonged.   
  
As soon as the thought came, Wheein’s heart ached. She itched to tell Hyejin about it. She wanted to gush about how she actually found something she liked. She wanted to tell her about the trio of unlikely strangers that took her in like a stray. God, she wanted to tell Hyejin everything. More so, she wanted Hyejin there.   
  
“Wheein?”  
  
She looked over to see Chandong. “We’re going to a bar up the street after we load up. You coming?”  
  
“Duh.”  
  
He grinned. “Let’s go, daydreamer.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein went through the last of the boxes to unpack. The things inside were kind of useless and probably better off left in the box and stuffed into storage. That or given away.   
  
Taking out her old tape player, she stored it away on the shelf and grabbed out a shoebox. It was heavy in her hands. The contents rattled as she placed it on the floor and undid the rubber band that held on the top. Cassette tapes glistened back at her. They’d accumulated over the years. The first one she recorded created a chain of others.   
  
The door creaked and Wheein put the top back on. Yongsun came in with a towel wrapped around her head and long-sleeved silk pajamas on. Modest. If it were Hyejin, she would’ve been in her underwear. Wheein cast those images away.   
  
“What’s in the box?” asked Yongsun, plopping onto her bed. She had a nail file in hand.   
  
Wheein looked down at the shoebox in her lap. At the time Byulyi gave her that bag of cassettes, she didn’t think they’d become a normal part of Wheein life’s but they did and she had a hoard of them. “Tapes.”  
  
“Of what?”  
  
“Old recordings.” They were full of laments. They were like entries in a diary, holding the story of her most painful of days. There were songs and voice recordings and crying and screaming and silence documented on A side and B side logging her most vulnerable moments. “I didn’t want to throw them away.”  
  
“Oh.” Yongsun looked at it curiously. “I didn’t know people still used those.”  
  
“Yeah…”   
  
Bounding the box with a rubber band, Wheein stuffed it under the bed where other hidden recordings and blank tapes were stored. Wheein thought about those tapes. How her past was just a hoard of old memory recording bounded up and stored away but never given away. She needed to start getting rid of those. If only because she didn’t want the upward progression she was on to be hinged on things of old.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein needed a change.   
  
She walked into the hairdressers on a whim, struck by the sudden urge to do something. Anything. She wanted to shed off scabs - get a new skin. Anything to help keep her from drowning in her woeful memories.   
  
“How may I help you today?” asked a hairdresser.   
  
“I want something different.”  
  
“If you’d like, we have catalogs you can look at.”  
  
Grabbing a book, Wheein took a seat and flipped through the pages. She found short hairstyles like the ones she used to have as a kid and longer ones the way she tried to manage now. Nothing stuck out just yet and she took up a different catalog. It was full of crazy colors and designs. Wheein had never tried doing that. Hyejin did. She went candy apple red for a time before she found a love in golden brown. Wheein wondered...  
  
“Can I do this?”  
  
The stylist looked down where Wheein’s finger rested on a woman with striking, goldenrod hair. It was pretty and glossy.   
  
“Sure.”  
  
“That’s what I want.”  
  
The hairdresser nodded and directed her to a chair. Wheein sat there for hours until light bronze turned to golden blonde, trimmed, shampooed, and styled. She hardly recognized herself in the mirror. The new hair made her see things she’s been ignoring before: The sharpness of her features, the barely their life in her eyes, the unpleasant, washed out parlor of her skin. She was starting to look better but the effects of the hall out still lingered. She had to change that, this being the first step.   
  
“Do you like it?” asked the hairdresser.   
  
“I-“  
  
“-love it!” Yongsun yelled when Wheein showed at the van for practice, stunning them all. She played with it, taking two chunks into her hands and swirled them around like propellers. “She looks like a golden retriever puppy, right?”  
  
Chandong laughed. “Kind of.”  
  
“Lookin’ good,” said Janghyun giving her a thumbs up.   
  
Wheein smiled. One step at a time.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_Daejeon_  
  
The van was quiet. The soothing vibrations of tires and the soft hum of the AC were comforting. Wheein fastened her book light to her journal and flicked it on. There was a new composition on the edge of her fingertips that she had to put down. Being with the members brought a wealth of inspiration. She was learning new sounds and techniques she hadn’t known before. She was growing.   
  
“That looks old.”  
  
Wheein looked up to see Yongsun. She sat down on the couch chair next to Wheein, legs pulled up beneath her. “I’ve had it since I was in middle school.”  
  
“Can I see?”  
  
Wheein hesitated but let Yongsun take her journal. She sat back, watching her flip through pages. She was uneasy letting someone look into her most personal of writings but she had a trust and admiration for Yongsun that she knew her heart would be safe with her.   
  
“Who are these about?”  
  
“Someone.” She shrugged. “Whatever, whoever.”  
  
“My parents are the reason I write.” She handled a page with a delicate turn, eyes on the page but mind off in her own recollection of past. “They hated me doing music. They wanted me to do something real. I tried but I was miserable. They didn’t make me feel any better so I left and moved in with my sister. She told me to stop trying to please mom and dad, she was doing it for the both of us.”  
  
“What do they think now?”  
  
Yongsun shrugged. “I learned that it was what I thought about myself that mattered more.” She looked up. “Do you think that makes me selfish?”  
  
“Are you happy?”  
  
“Do I look happy?”  
  
Wheein wasn’t sure. Yongsun was warm and kind and fun but she was also serious and hardworking and thoughtful. She exuded an air of contagious joy that Wheein found she wasn’t immune to. But that said very little. For those with the deepest of pain were some who smiled the brightest.   
  
“I don’t know,” Wheein answered honestly.  
  
“I still get sad and homesick and sometimes I don’t like boys or don’t want to sing but isn’t that how life is? We can’t be happy all the time but once you find joy in something, that’s what keeps you going. I love playing music. Even on days when I don’t want to, I still love it. Being able to travel and make people smile while doing what I love it is an added bonus.” Yongsun sat back on her hands, nose scrunched up on the side. “I think I can say I’m happy. I’m happy you joined us.”  
  
“Hah!” Wheein snorted and dropped her head so a curtain of blonde hair hid her face.   
  
“Really.” Yongsun bumped her fist against Wheein’s shoulder, pushing her back up. “I like having another girl around.”  
  
Wheein laughed, chest filling up with warmth. “I like being here, too.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Much of the year in Daejeon was a rush and a blur. Summer hit and their schedule was packed with sets from local haunts to clubs and festivals and gigs in neighboring cities.   
  
A high-intensity band took up that stage two acts after theirs. Wheein was exhausted but she was jumping up and down, arm raised in the air along with the rest of the audience. Lights blared, shining greens and blues and reds across the crowd. A glow sticks found its way into her hands and she cracked it so it glowed a bright pink in the light. Janghyun and Chandong waved theirs around, pretending to rave while Yongsun shook her two yellow ones in encouragement.   
  
“Wheein, get on!”  
  
“What?”  
  
Hands grabbed her and lifted her onto Chandong’s shoulders. She squealed when he stood upright so she towered over the crowd. He bobbed up and down making her move around. Wheein held her glow sticks in the air, shaking them with the rest of the crowd. Below, Yongsun snapped pictures on her phone.   
  
Wheein hollered with the crowd in a cheer for the band who encouraged them to up the hype. Her heart was racing, her lungs were having, her veins were singing, pumping with adrenaline and excitement. She had never done anything like this before. She’d never had so much senseless fun. She’d never just let herself go and be consumed by the moment.   
  
For the first time, Wheein didn’t feel the weights of her past. She was soaring.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein swayed in a hammock beneath the shade of a tree. The house they found was small inside but the space outback made up for it. It reminded her of sitting by the creek, easy breeze rustling leaves up above. Sun rays pierced against her skin through the branches only to be soothed with flickers of shade.   
  
The smooth vibration of her voice tapered off into a hum as she played the last notes of a song on her guitar and hit stop on the tape recorder when she was done. Hitting rewind. She watched the coils spin. That was the end of that cassette. Another to be added to the box.   
  
“Hey.”  
  
Wheein dropped her head back to see Yongsun holding two glasses. Her hair was pink just like the juice in her hands. Wheein thought it was a cute color on her and perfect for the season. “Hey.”  
  
“I thought you might be thirsty,” she said. Scooting over, Wheein let Yongsun climb into the hammock with her and took a glass. She sipped as they rocked. The juice was just what she needed on a warm summer day like this. “I like it here. Not so busy but not so quiet.”  
  
Wheein had to agree she liked it, too. Closing her eyes, she plunged back letting the wind comb through the bronze strands of her hair. “It’s nice.”  
  
“Why do you record those?”  
  
Wheein opened one eye to see the tape recorder Yongsun jutted her chin to. It had finished rewinding. “I met someone once. She gave me my first set of tapes and made me make a promise that I’d do music again. I’ve been doing this ever since.”  
  
“Can I listen?”  
  
A couple years ago Wheein would’ve said no. She was tired of hoarding her emotions and keeping her hurts a secret. She wanted to get them out. That was one reason why she recorded. That was another reason why she handed over her earbuds and let Yongsun take the recorder into her hands.   
  
One track played after another. They weren’t all complete songs. Sometimes a couple words of verse, sometimes a chorus, sometimes just instrumentation or her speaking over gentle strumming. Wheein watched Yongsun absorb into what she was listening to, eyes closed and mouth parted in interest. When it was over, she looked at Wheein with something she hadn’t seen before. A mix of awe, appreciation, affection, and something else. Something like understanding and knowing. Like she was seeing Wheein for the first time.  
  
“I’d love to add one of these to our set,” she said after a moment. Her voice was oddly serious and placid.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Some of the lyrics are a little rough but not bad. They’re...they say a lot.” Yongsun stared at the recorder, brow creased. “We can work on them together if you’d like and we can figure out how to split it into parts for everyone. Or we can make it a solo.”  
  
“A solo?”  
  
“I think that would be better. Pick one and we’ll work on it.”  
  
Wheein was nervous at the thought but excited just the same. “Okay.”  
  
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” said Yongsun and smiled. “I think you made the right promise to her.”  
  
Wheein took the recorder back from Yongsun’s hands. She thought she made the right promise, too.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They went out and stuffed their bellies full after a particularly lousy set. Poor sound equipment, a couple of fumbled notes, a lackluster crowd. Barbecued meat and bottles of soju were their go-to pick-me-up's. Wheein let a shot go down her throat with ease. The night was shitty but the company was good. No matter how much the critical parts of her mind wanted to tear her down the way they always used to do, she felt light knowing she wasn’t shouldering it alone.  
  
“Check it out,” said Janghyun. “Someone posted our stage online from last week online.” He turned his phone for everyone to see and they all peered over.   
  
They each monitored their performances. It was a good event. Lots of young people in attendance and a responsive audience. Wheein’s eyes wandered down to the views. There were a lot. She couldn’t help but wonder if Hyejin saw it. The thought left as soon as it came. Of course, she wouldn’t see it. That video was one a million that existed in cyberspace.   
  
“Someone commented that we should release an EP.”  
  
Chandong rolled his eye. He was particularly in a bad mood. “We should just sign already.”  
  
“I’m in,” seconded Janghyun.  
  
“Me, too.” Yongsun nudged Wheein who sat next to her, prodding a sizzling piece of beef on the burner with a pair of tongs. “What do you think?”  
  
She looked up. Her mind was still stuck on Hyejin and that video. It took her a moment for her brain to filter through the conversation she wasn’t much paying attention to. “About signing?”  
  
“I think we’re ready for it.”  
  
Janghyun scoffed. “We’ve been ready for it.”  
  
“It would be cool.” Wheein gave a shrug of indifference.   
  
“Cool?” Chandong eyed her, playfully scandalized. “It would be awesome! We’d have people doing this stuff for us. We’d have a real tour bus.”  
  
Yongsun laughed. “Cheers to a tour bus.”  
  
“Cheers!”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“There you are.” Yongsun found her on the back patio steps under the dim glow of light coming through the back door. “Can I join you?”  
  
Wheein nodded and shouldered her headphones as Yongsun took a seat beside her. “Sorry, I know we have a lot to pack.”  
  
“We have time.” Yongsun shrugged. “You’ve been quiet.”  
  
They were packing to stop in Jeonju before continuing on their trek to Daegu. Wheein hadn’t been back there since she was thirteen. She didn’t know what to expect. Especially from her mother. They didn’t talk much after the incident with the company. Though she checked in every once in awhile, they drifted with ill words and differences never resolved. Wheein wondered if it was because of the nature of the incident. She wondered if she compared her to her father and his affair. It made Wheein sick to think about but her heart ached to see her again.   
  
“I haven’t been back in years.” Though her father had long since left. Unsuspectedly, he was the one to pick her up after the fall. She probably should’ve have been so surprised by that. “I left my family there.”  
  
“Did you like your family?” asked Yongsun. Wheein looked up at her. The fear in her eyes was met with calm reassurance. “It’s okay if you didn’t.”  
  
“I love them.” Despite it all. Family was family. They did what they could for her. They tried, even now, they tried. But Wheein had been removed from them for enough time and she found what Yongsun said to her back in Suwon all the more true. It mattered what she thought of herself more than them. She hoped that one day she could have them both smile at her the way Wheein as learning how to do for herself.   
  
“What about us?” Yongsun wiggled her eyebrows. “Do you like us?”  
  
Wheein laughed, lightly shoving her shoulder. “I guess I do.”  
  
“Good, because I love you.”  
  
Wheein’s face went hot. Her entire being locked up and her chest tightened. She made a face of disgusted that caused Yongsun to laugh at.   
  
“Too much?”  
  
“I- it’s just-“  
  
“Don’t be such a stiff, Jung Wheein,” she scolded, playfully. “Sometimes it’s okay to tell people you love them.”  
  
Wheein covered her ears. Yongsun was making her feel weird inside. She wasn’t used to such blatant declarations of affection. She was cautious with those parts. “Ugh, stop saying it.”  
  
“If I can’t say it then-“  
  
Yongsun’s breath brushed across her face as she leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. Wheein turned, catching her lips at the last second.   
  
Yongsun gave her soft smile. “You’re sweet but I’m not...”  
  
“Oh. I thought...”  
  
“I’m sorry if I confused you,” said Yongsun, grabbing her wrist before she could get away.   
  
Wheein shrugged, head angled down so her hair hid her face. She was too embarrassed to look at Yongsun.   
  
“Hey,” she urged. Wheein was slow to meet her eyes. “If that’s who you are, that’s fine. I want you to be comfortable with us. Okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“You haven’t been with us long but you’re important to me. And not just because you can play and sing.” Yongsun eased her back down onto the step with a gentle tug. “We really care about you.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Are we okay?”  
  
Wheein smiled. “Yeah,” she answered truthfully.   
  
She was thankful for new friends. She was thankful for friends life Yongsun, Janghyun, and Chandong. She was thankful for people who could put happiness and care back in her life.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_Jeonju_  
  
Jeonju was the same but it was different. It was different because she was different.  
  
Wheein stared out at the city from the balcony of their hotel. She could hear Janghyun and Chandong playing around in the room next door while Yongsun’s delightful humming echoed from the bathroom where she took a shower. Being here with them made her feel like a stranger to the city. It created a new vibe as if she were experiencing the place for the first time. Maybe that was a good thing.  
  
Stepping back inside, she shut the balcony door and stretched out on her single bed. It was too soft the way hotel beds were or maybe it was her body remember where it was and that she had an old bed at an old house where she used to say.   
  
Neck craning over, she eyed her phone sitting on the cushion beside her. She’d been teetering back and forth on the idea of calling her mother. There was little she’d shared with her mother. The usual things. Like moving out of her apartment, joining a band, touring all sorts of places never expected of the homebody Jung Wheein she once knew.   
  
Ah. that was it, Wheein figured. The old Wheein of Jeonju was dead and gone. This new skin didn’t know how to act just yet. She wondered if others would be able to recognize her. She wondered if her mother…  
  
Wheein snatched up her phone and called a, “I’m leaving!” for Yongsun to hear.   
  
What as a phone call when she could just visit?   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She pushed the buzzer on the gate and waited. Standing on this strip of road took her back to her middle school self. She remembered coming through these gates, rain, sleet, or sunshine. She remembered dragging Hyejin behind her, cackling and whooping and hollering like the fun-loving kids they were. She remembered watching her father leave through them with a glance back over his shoulder before he left and she remembered waiting just inside for her mother to show up on late, late nights.   
  
“Who is it?” came her mother’s voice through the intercom.   
  
Wheein wet her lips and fought to keep her voice from shaking. “Mom?”  
  
Silence greeted her. Seconds ticked by. The gate opened to her mother.   
  
Emotions flooded through Wheein. Her mother looked just as she always did, small, dark hair, dark eyes, and chic in a way that made her appear intimidating. But she had changed. Lines of age streaked her face, long days were evident in the darkness in her eyes, the makeup she wore hid the ghost of pains. There were other things there. Shock, disbelief, sadness, hurt, love. Wheein grasped onto that last one and smiled. Whatever happened in those years in between didn’t matter in that second.   
  
“Wheein?” her voice cracked. Wheein never heard her mother sound anything other than firm and sure.  
  
The lump in her throat was too much for words. All she could do was push on a smile and try to blink back the tears that pooled in her eyes.   
  
“Oh, Wheein.” Her mother pulled her in. Wheein hugged her back. It had been so long. Too long. But in her mother's arms, it was almost like no time had passed at all.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Things had changed. Furniture moved around, decor swapped out, cabinets drapes a new shade. The place was very much reminiscent of her mother’s aesthetic, though the homey feeling it used to hold was traded for a showy vibe.  
  
“I rent out rooms to vacationers,” she responded to Wheein’s curiosity. A house for one was excessive, she thought, but her mother, “Couldn’t find it in me to let it go. Not yet.”  
  
Wheein understood. Even with the bad memories, it was home and there were still good times that happened there. Wheein found herself taking a deep breath. The smells of her childhood still lingered here. She didn’t feel like so much of a stranger then.  
  
“Are you eating okay?” asked her mother returning to the kitchen table with mugs of tea.   
  
Wheein picked hers up and blew off the stem rising with the fragrance of ginseng. She knew why her mother was asking. She saw herself, too. From photos just months to years before to now. She’d been in poor health, struck by a seemingly incurable case of mourning. She once said that Hyejin was her life. Her everything. Without her, Wheein felt like part of her was gone. She didn’t realize that was because she never allowed herself to be whole in the first place. She was getting there. Slowly, but she was getting there. She didn’t look as sickly anymore.  
  
“I’m fine.  
  
”Her mother looked at her the way any mother would when they didn’t buy their child’s words. “Should I make you something?”  
  
Wheein smiled. She wasn’t very hungry but her mouth watered at the sound of her mother’s cooking. “Okay.”  
  
She sat back and let her mother cook. The smells filled the house just like always and Wheein warmed when the dishes were placed in the table and she had a pair of chopsticks in hand.   
  
“It’s nice cooking for others again,” said her mother midway through the meal. “How are your band members?”  
  
“They’re nice. I like them.”   
  
“Will you come see us?”  
  
“I’d like that.” she smiled, genuinely excited. Wheein wondered how much more her pride would’ve swelled if she had an idol for a daughter who she could brag on. She figured this was close enough. “I saw the Ahn’s at the store the other day.”  
  
Wheein stilled. They did not speak about Hyejin. She never wanted to tell her mother what happened. She wished she could’ve taken the reason why she was kicked out of the company to the grave but it wasn’t up to her. Her aunt told her mother the truth and Wheein cried. She cried and cried and cried even more when her mother’s response to it was,  
  
_"This is his fault.”_  Those were probably the hardest words for Wheein to bear knowing she was being compared to the same hurt and betrayal that her father caused.  
  
The argument that followed concerning Wheein’s decision to get a place with Hyejin created a rift. Her mother was never happy about it so they decided to never talk about it, what happened with the company, or Hyejin at all. The fact her mother mentioned the Ahn’s was shocking. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if should say anything. She waited for her mother to look up from the glass she’d busied herself with to continue.  
  
“Is she…”  
  
“She left,” said Wheein. “Four years ago.”  
  
Her mother let out a breath, though it wasn’t full of relief. It was something else. Something like disappointment? Wheein wasn’t sure and she wasn’t sure how to react to, “I should’ve been there for you.”Pins stabbed into Wheein’s skin. They had never been good at apologies but knew how to spot them out. She knew how to detect regret and sorrow and she heard and felt it all in those words. “Mom…”  
  
“I love you and I should’ve been there.” Her lips pursed, holding them tight to keep her sadness at bay. “You’re all I have left.”  
  
The chair creaked as Wheein stood up. Rounding the table, she wrapped her arms around her mother, locking her in a hug. It felt foreign and unnatural but so necessary and right. “I love you, too, mom.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The streets filled up with people. A crowd fanned around the amphitheater, drawn in by the various acts. Their time to go up was coming soon.   
  
Wheein remembered a conversation she had once on this very stage. They were Hyejin’s words. Back then, her ideas sounded crazy and unobtainable. Funny, Wheein thought, she was the one performing here instead.  
  
“Ready?” asked Yongsun coming up on her side.  
  
Wheein met her eyes. “Ready!”  
  
She skipped onto the stage with the others to the sound of applause. There were a few of their fans in the crowd, holding up signs and brandishing phones with cameras going. It was so surreal. The sight must’ve been a lot for her mother to take in, too. She was looking around the crowd, mouth shaped in an oh and eyes wide when she registered that there were actually people there to see them. See her daughter. Wheein’s chest swelled with pride.  
  
“Hello everybody,” said Yongsun into her mic. “We’re Seventh Sun. Thanks for having us at your beautiful festival. I hope we don’t take up too much of your time. Chan?””  
  
“Let’s go! 1, 2, 3-“ Chandong tapped his drumsticks together with the count off.   
  
Music came in along with their voices. One song after another after another. Wheein led the last song with a joyful heaviness in her heart, voice ringing out over the speakers in words of a ballad she had written. Emotion swelled up inside of her. To be singing a song of her own in her hometown with her mother watching and surrounded by people she had come to love was overwhelming. She wasn’t sure why but she knew hadn’t felt this alive in ages.   
  
Looking over at her bandmates, she smiled with tears happy tears pricking at her eyes. They all glanced over at her, sharing in the moment together.   
  
Wheein’s heart soared. She was happy. She loved this. She loved her members. She loved herself. She was loving her love life for the first time in forever.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
They all sat around the dining table in her childhood home amongst a spread of food her mother cooked up. Wheein sat back, watching as conversation and laughs were exchanged across the table. She was nervous at first when her mother invited them over for dinner after the concert. Seeing how easy things were going, she didn’t feel so worried anymore.  
  
“Wheein never cooks like this for us,” teased Janghyun.  
  
Chandong snorted. “When does she cook?”  
  
Laughter ensued followed by a slate of teasing until stomachs were full and plates were empty. Wheein got up to help clean the table along with Yongsun who helped her scrub dishes in the sink while the boys entertained her mother in the living room, telling her stories of their travels in exchange for embarrassing ones about Wheein.  
  
“I never thought she would be a singer,” said her mother, looking over at her fondly where she sat on the floor. “She was always so quiet.”  
  
“Quiet? Sometimes we can’t get her to shut up.”  
  
“Hey!” Wheein playfully snarled.   
  
Banter ended and goodbyes were said. Wheein was last to bid her mother farewell.   
  
“I’ll come by before we leave,” she said.  
  
“Okay.” A finger stroked a strand of hair from her face and Wheein smiled. That was all they needed. No hugs, no sappy words of affection. They understood.  
  
Skipping down the wall, Wheein found the others waiting for her.  
  
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
She nodded in response. The boys piled into the van with a wave while Yongsun cast her a look over her shoulder before climbing in after them. Wheein waited until tail lights disappeared before she wandered off into a familiar direction. She hadn’t walked the path in years but she would never forget.   
  
Shoes crunching over rocks, Wheein stood at the edge of the creek. The water was low. A result of a hot, hot summer, but it was just the same as she remembered. It was eerie being back where it started. She swore she could hear their childish laughter on the wind, ringing like chimes.   
  
She kicked a rock with her toe and watched the ripples form around the place it dropped. Her life was like these rocks. Each skating across the surface, hitting an upward spike until plummeting into despair and then trying over again. Over and over and over and over.   
  
But now, for the first time, Wheein didn’t feel like this plummet was making her drown. It was actually piling her back to the surface where she could breathe.  
  
“Hey, Hyejin-ah,” she spoke into the dark. “I kept your promise. You better be keeping it, too.”  
  
Turning around, Wheein walked back up the path with nothing standing in her way.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_Daegu_  
  
It was the middle of the night when they got a flat on the way to Daegu.   
  
Wheein roused from sleep to find Janghyun grabbing the tool bag and Chandong searching for a flashlight. Yongsun sat up on the couch, fingers tapping away furiously on her phone.   
  
“I think I saw a convenience store up the road,” said Yongsun when she saw WHeein was awake. “Do you mind going there? I’m going to find us a hotel to stay at.”  
  
Nodding, Wheein slipped on her shoes and got out, flipping on her hood to shield from the light drizzle. Not far up ahead was the glow of a sign. Wheein jogged through puddles and ducked inside, eyes squinting in the harsh, fluorescent lights above. The nodded her way in acknowledgment. She offered a bow in return.  
  
Taking a stop in the restroom, she rushed out and scanned the aisle, grabbing their favorite snacks and drinks. Going to the front, she placed them on the counter. Behind the clerk was a TV playing just barely in sight. A commercial break gave way to a drama and Wheein felt the very breath leave her body.   
  
“Ma’am? Ma’am.”  
  
Wheein jerked her head from the TV. Taking the bag, she walked out and ran back to the van and handed a canned coffee and a bottled juice to Janghyun and Chandong who were working away at getting on the new tire. Inside she found Yongsun and handed off her snacks and milk.  
  
“Everything okay?” asked Yongsun.  
  
“Yeah.” Wheein forced a smile and plopped down into her seat.  
  
She suddenly didn’t have an appetite. She was too shaken.  
She couldn’t believe it.   
  
She couldn’t believe Hyejin actually made it.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She told herself not to do it but curiosity betrayed her. Wheein’s fingers worked furiously, typing out a name she hadn’t uttered in nearly five years. It should’ve come as no shock that she would be easy to find. Ahn Hyejin brought up someone with the face of her Hyejin but the name she went by was different now.  _Hwasa._  Years back, Wheein laughed at the name suggestion. Who knew it would’ve become a reality and Wheein would feel a bubble of guilt for thinking it stupid.   
  
Reading through articles, Wheein was hit over and over again with shock and amazement. The Hyejin she knew was gone or rather cloaked beneath this new persona. She was intimidatingly alluring. Ripened curves, a mesmerizing gaze, thick, smoky makeup, confidence, elegance, beauty, radiance. She was everything Wheein saw inside of her now glowing on the outside. Full force.  
  
Wheein ate up every article, becoming increasingly taken and enamored by this  _Hwasa_  person. She found that after her formative years in Korea, Hyejin blossomed into an actress with her own flavor and appeal. Her reach transcended borders with the spark of her fame coming to her with a role landed in a drama full of well known actors that helped to push Hyejin into the spotlight. The buzz about the new star only continued after that building a decent resume and name for herself. People loved her and that was probably the hardest thing for Wheein to take in.   
  
People  _loved_  Hyejin. They posted comments about her, they took pictures of her, they boasted under interviews about her. She was glowing and thriving and climbing up the ladder that had been dismantled for them countless times.Wheein shut her laptop. That was enough. She couldn’t handle it.  
  
She didn’t want to accept whoever this  _Hwasa_  was and she wasn’t going to let that person derail her.  
  
Not again. Her Hyejin was gone. Wheein would leave it at that.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“Who’s that?”  
  
Wheein jerked her head around to see Yongsun stepping into her room. She didn’t have time to minimize the browser window when she came up behind Wheein, bent at the waist to see her screen.   
  
“Oh! I’ve heard of her.” She had a look of admiration on her face. The kind that everyone did when they looked at Hyejin. And who wouldn’t? She was something else when she was in her element. In the video playing, she was more than in her element. She was owning ever bit of it. “I haven’t really watched her in anything but I hear she’s pretty good.”  
  
“Yeah…” Wheein spun her desk chair around, pulling Yongsun’s attention away from her laptop. “Did you need something?”  
  
She blinked away from the screen with a smile. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to have a band meeting.”  
  
Wheein nodded and got up. She followed Yongsun into the common room where the boys were already seated. Chandong gave a wide mouth yawn while Janghyun tapped the screen of his phone with his thumbs. It was late. No performance or practice and work done for them all for the evening made for a lazy night. Wheein usually liked those but lately, they gave way into her lurking and internet stalking.  
  
“Okay.” Yongsun clapped her hands, drawing them all to attention. “I called you in here because, if you didn’t already know, we’ve been getting a couple signing offers.”  
  
“Right,” Janghyun took over. “I know we joked about it before, but Yongsun and I think it’s time we start taking it seriously.”   
  
“After doing some thinking, Jang and I thought that after our year in Busan, we’ll return and stay in Seoul.” Yongsun’s eyes around to each of them. “We’ll keep researching companies and labels and find out which one fits the best with what we want to do. How does that sound to everyone?”  
  
There was a short stretch of silence between them. It was apparent that Yongsun and Janghyun were already in agreement of this. Not surprising. They were the originators of the band and the leads in most decision makings. Wheein was always surprised that they all had such good teamwork, but from watching those two work together over the years, it was obvious they were a cohesive and well working group because they were respectful of one another. Wheein never once doubted them. When she had a question or uncertainty, she was free to express it. She knew that’s what Yongsun wanted from them now.  
  
“We’re already an established band,” said Chandong. "Don’t companies, like, ruin groups?”  
  
Wheein knew what he meant.  
  
“That’s a very important concern,” said Yongsun. “We won’t sign anywhere that forces us to change what we have.”  
  
“We’re open to critique and direction,” Janghyun tagged on, “but the way we perform has to stay. Yongsun and I think it works best for us and we already have fans of our style.” Chandong nodded to him and Janghyun peered back over to Yongsun with a thumbs up. “You already know I’m in.”  
  
“I know.” Yongsun smiled at him then turned to Chandong. “Chan?”  
  
“I’m ready for anything.”  
  
Attention turned to Wheein who sat curled in the cushions of the chair. They’ve had band meetings before, some that got heated and hard opinions thrown out, but they never made Wheein felt as nervous as she did now. She wondered why. Was it the idea of going into another company? Even so, like they said, they were established. All they really needed was a label. No trainee camps, no waiting years and years for a debut, not having to learn an entirely new team, no secrets they were hiding that could be unveiled. Wheein knew that yet still…  
  
“I haven’t been with you that long,” she said, trying to ease her way out of giving a say in the matter. The hierarchal ladder would work in her favor anywhere else but not here.  
  
Yongsun’s head tilted. “You have a voice in this, too.”  
  
She pursed her lips. “It’s not as easy as you think.”  
  
“Nothing has been for us but we’re willing to take the chance.” Yongsun glanced at the boys. “Right?” Chandong and Janghyun nodded. Eyes landed on her again.  
  
She shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”  
  
Yongsun narrowed her eyes a moment but didn’t press for more. “Let’s sleep on it. We still have time to research and plan. If anyone starts feel differently, we should talk about it before it’s too late.” Yongsun tossed a glance at Wheein. “Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Wheein responded with the boys.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She knew Yongsun would find her. She always did. The fall air was crisp but it was nice. Stepping into the gate, Yongsun joined her on the patio of a little cafe she learned to like under the shade of a tree. Multicolored leaves shivered in the breeze. Wheein picked up her latte and sipped, nose wrinkling as the warmth sizzled in her stomach.   
  
“Brunch?” asked Yongsun.  
  
“Brunch.”  
  
They waited for orders to come and ate with light conversation. It was nice talking in the open air. The house they lived in grew stuffy sometimes and now having separate rooms they didn’t have their usual sort of talks. Not that that was bad. Wheein found that sometimes separation was a good thing.   
  
“I know sometimes it’s hard talking in front of everyone so I wanted to ask you alone.” Yongsun placed down her tea and combed back her deep, chestnut hair. It was so long now. “About signing, you didn’t sound so sure at the meeting the other night.”  
  
She felt guilty for pushing back when everyone else was excited about the band’s future. She wasn’t sure how to express herself. She hadn’t told Yongsun or the others that portion of her past but there was no way she could explain her aversions without coming clean.  
  
Picking her her phone, Wheein opened up the internet typed out something in the search bar. When the page loaded, she turned the screen for Yongsun to see. “Do you know them?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Wheein looked at the screen to see the faces of the five girls she once celebrated a possible future with. They weren’t together anymore. Seven years of running and they’d disbanded and branched off to do their own things. A part of Wheein’s heart still reached out to them and still mourned the loss.   
  
“I was supposed to debut with them.”  
  
Yongsun’s eyes widened. “Really?”  
  
“I told myself I wasn’t going to join another company after that. I didn’t even want to do music again.” Wheein told her that story already. About meeting the strange woman with silver hair, about playing in bars, about finding her way back after a tragic loss of someone.  
  
“But you did because you made a promise?” said Yongsun.  
  
“Yeah…” At the time, she didn’t know it was going to take her this far again. Being with Yongsun and the boys was nothing she could’ve seen for her future. It was insane and yet it was perfect. It was exactly what she needed. That slim chance she took, throwing out that application, ended up being her lifesaver.   
  
“Are you afraid that something bad will happen again?”  
  
“No.” She trusted Yongsun. She trusted the boys. She knew it was safe where she was. “We could sign somewhere and it would be fun but I’d miss this.”  
  
She’d miss how simple it was just to be with a group of people she cherished doing what they loved to do without the pressure of the media. She was scared of being thrust into the spotlight and not being able to gain her individuality back.  
  
There was something she told Byulyi all those years ago. That she didn’t want to be famous. That still stood. She never wanted that. Even when she was a teenager and she was dragged into the idol world, the thought of being blasted out there for everyone to see was not what she liked. She just wanted to make music. She just wanted to be happy.   
  
“We won’t lose that,” said Yongsun. “But I understand if you don’t want to continue with us.”  
  
“I do, I just…” Wheein heaved a sigh. It was complicated. She wasn’t even making sense herself. To have a label and have thousands - millions - of people know who they were, who she was, was one of the coolest (yet scariest) things ever. Wasn’t that what she would’ve gotten with her debut anyway?   
  
“I never asked,” started Yongsun, drawing back her attention. “Why did you want to join us?”  
  
Wheein remembered her piano instructor asking her something similar.  
  
“Why are you here?”   
  
She was young then, only thinking of the present. She barely thought about life outside of training and being an idol because she thought it was something she would always have along with Hyejin. Now she was years removed from all of that and back in the same scene that nearly dashed her hopes and dreams for casting her aside like a pariah.   
  
The difference now was that Wheein wasn’t trying to run away. She was running straight ahead, forward into who she could be and what she wanted. The only obstacle was herself. The only one who could knock her off course was herself. The only thing that could break her was herself.  
  
“I needed it.” But not like she needed air or how she thought she needed Hyejin.   
  
She needed it like an itch she needed to scratch. She needed it like the impatience to reach the next chapter of a book. She needed it because she needed to satisfy the hunger and the craving and the restlessness within her bones to break from the stagnant, monotony that was her life and find something she could grab onto. She needed to find who she was. Just Wheein. Maybe her time with Yongsun wouldn't be long, just like her time training and her time with Hyejin, but she would make it a time that would grow her and one she could look back on and be proud that it happened. Thankful that it happened.   
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Wheein blinked. “Huh?”  
  
“Thank you for being true,” said Yongsun, soft smile tugging her lips. “Our past member was here because he didn’t have anywhere to go. He was out of a job and a home and being with us helped him get back on his feet. If you don’t stay, that’s okay. I want you to do what feels right for you. Whatever will make you happy. We’ll be okay. We’d miss you but we’d be okay. I’m glad we could be a new start for you. That means more than anything to me.”  
  
“I’ll stay for now,” she said. She had nowhere else to go and she truly loved being with them. Who knew what could come out of it? Possibly something even better than what they had. All she had to do was set her fears aside one more time. “As long we get to keep writing our own songs.”  
  
“Deal.” Yongsun extended her hand and Wheein took it without complaint. “Do you know how well we can do having a former idol star?”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes and shoved Yongsun in the shoulder. Laughter filled the air around them and Wheein had never felt so at ease in her life.   
  
-/-/-/-  
  
_Busan_  
  
She got the call when she was twenty-six.  
  
Electricity was running through her veins, nerves alight with euphoria, and sweat running down her back after another performance and high volume concert. Grabbing equipment, she helped load up the van out back. Conversations flew all around as members of other groups did the same, swapping information and snapping selfies like old friends.   
  
“Is that everything?” asked Changdon, taking Yongsun’s keyboard case from her hands and loading it up.   
  
“I think so. I’ll check.” Rushing back into the venue, Wheein dodged a burly guy toting a kick drum and peeked into their waiting room. Perfect. Everything packed.  
  
”Wheein!” Janghyun called to her, catching her in the hall, guitar clutch in his hand. “The other bands invited us out.”  
  
She gave him the okay sign. “I’ll meet you at the van.”  
  
“Hurry!”  
  
“I have to pee!”  
  
Skipping through the hall, Wheein hurried into the bathroom. Drying off her hands, she pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time. It was nearing midnight and- Wait. She pulled it back out of her pocket. There was a voicemail notification on the screen from an unknown number. Hitting play, she held the phone to her ear as she made her way back through the venue to find the others.   
  
“Uh, I’m not sure if this is the right number,” started a woman’s voice. “I’m looking for Jung Wheein? I hope this is right.” The voice was so familiar. A distant memory but still familiar and inviting. “Do you remember me?”  
  
Wheein stopped in the middle of the hallway. She…  
  
“ _My name is Jung Wheein,”_ her voice played back at her, scratchy and muffled through the speaker. _“I’m going to play a song for you.”_  
  
The voicemail ended there.   
  
Wheein pulled the phone from her ear. She stared at the device in her hand. Was that...was that real? She played it again. And again. And one more time. There was no mistaking it. It was real. It was  _her_ and it was real.   
  
A burst of excitement ignited in her chest. It had been so long. What? Three? Five years? Wheein could barely control her shaking fingers as she tapped through apps and fumbled. Hitting the call back number, she was greeted with a,  
  
“Cloud Entertainment, how may I help you?”  
  
Wheein froze. Cloud? Entertainment? She looked at the number again, ignoring the, “Hello? is anyone there?” until she confirmed she had it right. She did. It was right.  
  
Bring the phone back to her ear, she didn’t know what else to say but, “My name is Jung Wheein. I missed a call from this number?”  
  
“What was your name?”  
  
“Jung Wheein.”  
  
“Please hold.”  
  
Wheein held. She was having trouble breathing. What the hell was going on-  
  
“This is Moon Byulyi.”  
  
Wheein nearly choked. “Hi.”  
  
There was a pause. A long, drawn out, painful pause of nothing but the easy, light breathing coming through the receiver and Wheein’s strained ones she was trying to control.  
  
“Hello again,” Byulyi purred. Her voice washed over Wheein like waves and her mind did flashbacks upon flashbacks of the same scenes of them from the past over and over and over again. “You got my message?”  
  
Wheein’s heart was racing. “Yes.”  
  
“Didn’t I tell you I’d remember?”   
  
She didn’t think anything of it back then. She was such a shy, insecure, embarrassed little thing when Byulyi met her. She didn’t think of herself as anything let alone remembering. “Yes.”  
  
“So tell me, Jung Wheein-” her named rolled off Byulyi’s tongue like she’d been practicing it, waiting for this moment to use it in this very way. “Do you still want to make music?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Byulyi’s chuckle was light and playful but her words were direct and sure. “Come find me in Seoul.”   
  
_Click.  
  
\-----  
  
_**AN:**  Hello everyone! I hope you all had a good new year and January has been treating you well this far. Welcome back to Skipping Rocks with this fun little chapter where we get to grow with Wheein in a very unexpected way. We're nearing the end of this fic, but don't worry, the journey between Wheein and Hyejin ha not ended. Let me know about your new year and your fic feels below! See you next chapter. 

 


	5. Obsidian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obsidian cleanses of disharmony, negative attachments, old patterns and negative emotions, helping to unearth any negative thought patterns that are standing in the way of growth.

Another music show, another hoard of groups. Each concept blurred one into the other. Cute. Strong. Feisty. Bold. Sexy. Futuristic. Sushi? Wheein closed her eyes, blocking out the odd pink decorative outfits the seven-member girl group were hopping around on stage in  
  
A snickering laugh to her left caught her ear followed by a nudge in the shoulder. Wheein opened one eye to see Byulyi grinning her wide-mouthed smile and head bobbing. “They’re funny, right?”  
  
Yeah, Wheein thought, if this was an SNL skit. She closed her eyes again, smiling despite her shake of the head at her senior. Of course, Byulyi would enjoy silly stage antics and cute girls bouncing about on stage with their witty lyrics filled with children nursery rhyme references.  
  
“Oh.” Another nudge hit her in the arm. Wheein waited for Byulyi to say, “They’re good. Watch them,” before opening her eyes and taking in a boy group dressed in well-tailored suits.  
  
They _were_ good. So, Wheein watched.  
  
Byulyi tapped her foot and Wheein bobbed her head, mind stripping away the lights, the costumes, the choreography, the words, and zeroed in on the music. That’s what they were there for. Research. What were the masses into these days? What was selling? What beats made people jump and what riffs made others snooze? Listening to tons of genres during free time was good but Byulyi suggested she do more fieldwork. Actually, go to the scene where the people she’d be composing for would be performing and competing for awards.  
  
The boys finished up. It was an early morning recording. So early that Byulyi knocked on her door at four in the morning, denied her the luxuries of coffee so they could make it in time to do a little bit of networking, scope out hidden talent, and make nice with some staff. It was fun and all, but Wheein was in dire need of sleep. Or coffee. Mainly coffee.  
  
“How many more?” she asked, suppressing a yawn.  
  
“Three, I think, but we don’t have to stay.”  
  
“Let’s go to Blue Birds.”  
  
Byulyi smirked. “Okay.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The first thought Wheein had was that Moon Byulyi was a snake.  
  
What did she mean come find her in Seoul? What did she mean Cloud Entertainment and liking her work and thought she had great potential? Wheein felt a lot of things in the conversations after the initial phone call, and though she was reeling with excitement she couldn’t shake the feeling of being tricked at first.  
  
_“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to think I was only interested in your music to recruit you.”  
  
“Why were you interested?”  
  
“I liked talking to you. I liked your music second.”_  
  
She figured Byulyi was telling the truth.  
  
She went onto the internet soon after and typed Byulyi’s name into the search bar. There she was. Moon Byulyi. Producer and Lyricist. Cloud Entertainment. A web page listed her works and the names of famous artists she’d written for, worked with and collaborated with. She was notable for her old age but relatable lyrics and her unique use of imagery and raw emotion.  
  
It made Wheein a little woozy. To think she had been spending her time having drinks, listening to mixtapes, and being a shy, sad, little girl was a whole lot of self-consciousness to get over.  
  
_“Come to Seoul. Try it out. If you don’t like it you don’t have to take it,”_ was what Byulyi told her after finally getting Wheein to even consider. Not that she hadn’t been. It was just all so sudden.  
  
_“So was joining us,”_ Yongsun reasoned. _“Go! Do it! You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t.”  
_  
Yongsun was right. So Wheein hugged her and the boys' goodbye and left to join a huge entertainment company with only her talents and her bags in hand where she was swept up into a new scene. The pop scene. Wheein didn’t think she’d ever be back there. But there was a charm to Byulyi and an attractive quality to Cloud Entertainment and a chance to face her demons and obtain an unpredictable dream that yanked her in.  
  
Now she was here. A rookie composer with a lot to prove.  
  
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The morning rush had come and gone by the time they got to Blue Birds. It was Wheein’s favorite coffee stop. She ordered a latte while Byulyi got a chai as usual and ventured off to find a booth where the sun seeped through the blinds just enough to keep out the chill.  
  
“Do you want to share half?” asked Byulyi showing up at the booth with a pastry and two forks. Taking a fork, Wheein smiled her thanks and stabbed into the glazed dough. Hot caramel chased it down and settled in her stomach just right. Byulyi smiled over at her and Wheein licked her lips in satisfaction as she continued to eat.  
  
She remembered her first official meeting with Byulyi. The silver hair and leather jackets had been traded out with ash blonde and business casual attire. It was intimidating. They sat in a conference room at Cloud with others, mouths full of questions and assessments. They told her about Cloud, what they were looking for, and what Wheein could possibly bring to their sound. As they went on, Wheein realized how lucky she was to have bumped into Byulyi all those years ago. It was the chance of a lifetime she knew would’ve never come again.  
  
“Hyori wants to take a new direction with the second quarter,” started Byulyi. “We’ll be working closely together to create a different sound for the new soloist and ride that with our groups. She has big ideas in mind for the next year.”  
  
Wheein nodded as she chewed. Cloud had a generous roster. Two boy groups, a girl group, three soloists, and a handful of trainees they were working to debut. Wheein was one of a few composers who were on staff long before her but one they expected a lot from. It was only fair. The company took a chance on her at the words of Byulyi and a crappy mixed tape recorded years ago. It was a wonder they even considered her.  
  
“We’ll record the demos. Do you mind? I think your voice will fit the direction we’re trying to go.”  
  
Wheein shook her head though the prospect of singing tracks for the CEO to listen to and weed through created nervous prickles in her stomach. “How many?”  
  
“A few.” Byulyi smacked on the last bite and fished for her keys in a pocket. “Don’t forget we’re having a business dinner with a few overseas producers. Dress accordingly.”  
  
“Why does that sound scary?”  
  
Byulyi laughed and draped an arm over Wheein’s shoulder, steering them out of the coffee shop. “It will be.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Getting home, Wheein stretched out on her bed. Her apartment was modest sized. Fit just right for her. It was better than anything she ever had in the past, a little treat to herself for making it this far.  
  
An incoming call beeped from her desktop monitor. Getting up, Wheein dropped into the computer chair and grinned when she saw the name of the video request. She hit answer. “Hey.”  
  
“Wheein!” Yongsun’s face lit up the screen, teeth blaring in a smile as she blew virtual kisses. Wheein groaned through her laughter. It had been a while since they spoke. “When are you going to see us?” she asked after catching up. “The boys miss you.”  
  
“When you take a break from being nomadic hipsters.”  
  
Yongsun rolled her eyes playfully. “You don’t have any more excuses. We’re probably returning to Seoul in the next year or so. I think we might’ve found a home.”  
  
Excitement lit up her chest. “Where?”  
  
Yongsun told her a label. They weren’t very big but they were the kind of management the band needed. Something that let them do what they wanted but helped them build onto what they already had with directional help.  
  
“You should’ve adopted us at Cloud.”  
  
“Wouldn’t that be like nepotism?” said Janghyun in the background.  
  
Yongsun kicked a leg out at a hidden figure. Wheein heard Janghyun yelp followed by a whiny complaint for her to stop being so violent. “We should get together once we move up there,” she said returning to the screen. A finger twirled a strand of blonde hair. “I miss you.”  
  
Wheein’s face warmed. “Me, too.”  
  
“Say it back.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Say it~”  
  
Wheein covered her face. “Stop it.”  
  
“We have a show to catch so I’ll let you off this time.” Yongsun winked. “Don’t forget us, okay? I’ll let you know when we move.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
She ended the call and sat back. Wheein couldn’t believe it. Ten months. She’d been with Cloud for ten months and she had already come this far. Talking to Yongsun put everything into perspective. How quickly life was moving, how steadily she was evolving.  
  
Her past was further away than her future, a place she didn’t think she’d ever reach. And though she was doing it alone, she was doing something. She was doing something for herself, at a place she liked, and with a senior who she enjoyed. The Wheein she was in that apartment, alone and forgotten, was no more.  
  
And, God, did it feel so good.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Business dinners weren’t something Wheein was used to. It took her several outfits and a couple of internet searches to help piece together an outfit. The simple dress and heals was awkward to her. Business casual was one thing but dressy? New territory.  
  
Making her way into the building, she took the elevator to the thirty-second floor where soft music and the gentle clink of dishes greeted her. She was late. Giving her name at the front, a host led her back to the room that was reserved for their party. Wheein looked across the table. It was a small group. Hyori sat at the end flanked by one of the other directors. Other staff was there along with the foreign faces of producers. In the middle of the table was Byulyi, eyes drawn wide and lips a little parted when she saw Wheein at the door.  
  
Wheein smiled shyly and went for the empty seat beside her. “Sorry, I’m late,” she whispered as the host helped her out of her coat and draped it on the back of her chair.  
  
“No one noticed,” said Byulyi.  
  
“Everyone was staring.”  
  
“No, they weren’t.” Byulyi gave her a reassuring smile. “They were just curious about who the new, pretty face was.”  
  
Wheein gave a light eye roll and turned away to Hyori who raised her voice to address the table. The dinner was a formality if nothing more. It ended on a positive note and smiles. Hands shook and promises to keep in touch passed along as the table began to clear. Wheein hung back, finishing what was left of her champagne along with Byulyi who spoke with Hyori near the exit. Wheein was impressed. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to speak to their CEO so candidly.  
  
“So what did you think?” asked Byulyi making her way back to the table. She took the last sip of her drink and sat back, stretching out in her business suit in a way she couldn’t during the stuffy dinner.  
  
“Of?”  
  
“Everything. You looked tense.”  
  
“This is new for me.”  
  
Byulyi nodded in understanding. “How about one more drink to end the night? Something”–she flicked a finger against the champagne glass making it ring–”less bourgeoisie. I’ll take you home after.”  
  
That sounded like a deal too good to pass up. “Okay. Restroom first.”  
  
Byulyi got up. “I’ll meet you at the bar. What do you want?”  
  
Wheein kept it with a simple beer. “Just one!” she called to Byulyi’s back hurrying out of the door.  
  
Grabbing her coat off the chair, Wheein left the room. The restroom sign glowed off-white across the restaurant on the opposite side from the bar. She started for it.  
  
“Wheein!”  
  
She stopped in her step and glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes found Byulyi who had yet to make it to the bar. Her eyes were alight and her mouth was in such a wide smile Wheein thought it would break her face. She had a look about her. Awestruck? It wasn’t like Byulyi to look so…taken. But then Wheein looked down at the table she was hovering by and she understood.  
  
It was a fluke. A glitch. A trick of the light. It was something and that something struck Wheein like a lightning bolt in the stomach. Static rolled through her body in a sickeningly uncomfortable shock that turned her insides into tightly coiled wires. Because the last time she saw _that_ face was years ago, slamming a door on her, shutting her out before she was walked out on. Now it was here. Wheein was rocketed into a time warp that took her neck in a vice grip and squeezed. She couldn’t breathe.  
  
“Come over here,” Byulyi said a little too strangled. And why wouldn't she? It was her, after all.  
  
_Her_ , her. Ahn Hyejin. The woman who Korea and beyond knew as Hwasa. The actress, Hwasa. The actress with the saucy stares, the honey voice, and the body of some middle-aged man’s sexual fantasies.  
  
To Wheein she would never be anyone else other than Hyejin. The edgy, little girl she met when she was seven who didn’t know how to mind her business and bulldozed herself into Wheein’s life as her truest friend. That memory shattered when she saw Byulyi wave her over. Hyejin was looking her way, too, those eyes just as controlled and stagnant as ever.  
  
The walk felt like a mile though it was only a few paces across the restaurant. Each one felt heavier than the previous. Each one felt like taking another inch to the edge of a cliff Wheein had maintained a safe distance from. Now, in the presence of Hyejin once again, she was hurled to the brinks and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back.  
  
Dark eyes fluttered long lashes. Wheein caught the full force of Hyejin’s gaze and her heart pounded so hard it ached.  
  
“This is my colleague,” Byulyi introduced.  
  
“Hey,” said Wheein.  
  
She felt Byulyi stare at her. Whether it was because of the nonchalant, informal way she addressed the actress or the weird, high pitch her normally soft, flat toned voice took on, she didn’t know. All she knew was that Hyejin was staring at her like an apparition and the blood in her veins was rushing much too fast making her slightly dizzy.  
  
“Hi,” Hyejin answered back.  
  
Wheein felt a million things in that one worded sentence and a million and one when ruby lips pulled back over pearly teeth into a warm grin that twisted into a smirk at the corners. Manicured, rose gold nails combed through long, wavy deep black hair pushing it back with the luxurious stroke of a cat.  
  
“Speechless? Not what I was expecting from someone who used to be so.... _chatty.”_  
  
Wheein stilled. She blinked. She deadpanned. “What’re you doing here?”  
  
“Having dinner,” she said matter-a-fact. Dark eyes lifted off Wheein to find Byulyi. “Your colleague was sharing that she was a fan. She said she was on a team that produced a song in one of my drama’s a couple years back.”  
  
“It didn’t chart as well as we wanted,” said Byulyi.  
  
“Neither did our ratings.” Hyejin looked between the two of them, eyes taking in all the information from the scene she needed. “Where do you two work?”  
  
“We work at Cloud together,” Byulyi answered because Wheein was struggling with the words that were suddenly caught in her throat. She didn’t want Hyejin to know anything. She didn’t want Hyejin to know–  
  
“Entertainment?” she sounded genuinely surprised. She should be.  
  
Where Wheein could track Hyejin’s moves through articles and Naver pages, Wheein’s was hidden in lists of names, barely noticeable unless anyone cared to look through blocks of credits and point her out. Being at Cloud was changing that. Something both good and bad. She was on the radar. She’d be easier to find. And now that Hyejin knew, she didn't know how much she liked that idea right now.  
  
“Are you still singing?”  
  
“Composing,” Wheein corrected. She hated to admit how Hyejin’s surprised and pleased smile did a number in her chest. She tossed it away and turned to Byulyi. There was a confused wrinkle at the corner of her nose. “It’s getting late. We should probably order.”  
  
“Are you in a rush?” Hyejin’s eyebrow lifted, lips shaping into a slight oh. Years may have passed but Wheein could still read her expressions. She could still read the hint of disappointment in the tiny crease between her eyes.  
  
“Early mornings don’t always mix with late nights,” said Byulyi, checking her watch. “We still have some time to waste.”  
  
“Join me?” Those eyes, sharp with makeup, cut to Wheein again. “Unless you had other plans.”  
  
Byulyi shook her head. “I don’t mind.”  
  
The crease left Hyejin’s forehead and was replaced by creases around her nose when she smiled. “Please. Sit.”  
  
“I’ll order that beer. Would you like anything?” Byulyi asked to Hyejin. When she declined, she wandered off to the bar. Wheein watched her go with a sinking feeling.  
  
“Well, don’t just stand there like a neanderthal.” Hyejin smirked.  
  
Wheein sank into a chair at the table, forcing herself to look anywhere but Hyejin. She noticed a few things then. Like other people tossing glances their way, a strategically placed manager a few tables away pretending to read articles on her iPad, and the prickles of eyes on her. She couldn’t keep staring off into space, so she turned back. Hyejin didn’t pretend like she hadn’t been staring. Not that Wheein expected her to. She was always intimidatingly confident. Even when she was scared, she forced herself to appear she wasn’t. Wheein knew better.  
  
“You look like the old you,” said Hyejin.  
  
Wheein subconsciously tucked a strand of cropped, black hair behind her ear. She’d been blonde and brown and bronze and long and short over the years, but she found a comfort back in black. Now that comfort was interrupted by the link it shared with Hyejin, both bare faced and scraggly bed head putting on concerts for each other up in her room.  
  
“You look like you’ve been kissed by Hollywood,” she said, throat dry.  
  
“I’m in China now.”  
  
“You’re in Korea right now.”  
  
Eyebrows lifted. She could play at Wheein’s game. “You’re not in Jeonju.”  
  
The swirling heat in Wheein’s neck turned to ice. “Seoul was always better.”  
  
“Was it?”  
  
Wheein narrowed her eyes. Hyejin flipped her hair over her shoulder, easily putting back on airs just as Byulyi returned to the table. She eased down into a chair, drinks in hand. There was a glint of admiration in her eye when she looked at Hyejin and a curious glance to Wheein whose face was still stuck on irritated.  
  
“Do you know each other?”  
  
“We knew each other,” Wheein answered.  
  
“As kids.”  
  
Byulyi blinked in surprise. “You never mentioned that.”  
  
Wheein waved a hand, dismissing it as if it were nothing. “We lost touch.”  
  
Hyejin chuckled in the back of her throat as she took a sip of her drink. “It happens.”  
  
“It happens,” Wheein echoed. “Different lives.”  
  
“When was that?” asked Byulyi, trying to defuse the undercurrent of tension suddenly brought to the table.  
  
Hyejin licked a bead of wine from her lip and leaned back. One arm curved over the back of her chair, head tilted in thought. “How long has it been? Five years?”  
  
“Seven.”  
  
Hyejin’s laugh was frilly. Showy. “Wow, I never thought I’d come back so soon.”  
  
“Then what are you doing here?” There was a sting in her voice that she knew would not go unmissed.  
  
Hyejin handled it like the pro she was, cloaking the stab behind a sly smile. “It’s a secret.”  
  
Her manager swept in before anyone could say anything else. She bent down, whispering something into Hyejin’s ear. Wheein watched her smile slip into a fine line and her eyes narrow the slightest. Whatever she was telling her was bad news or news she didn’t really like.  
  
“Bring the car around,” she said back. The manager nodded and walked away with a phone pressed to her ear. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”  
  
“We’ll walk you out,” Byulyi suggested.  
  
Chair legs scraped the ground as they rose. Wheein and Byulyi waited for Hyejin to put on her coat before they ventured outside. The wind seemed to cut sharper this time. Wheein fastened one more button of her coat. She wasn’t surprised to see that her fingers were shaking.  
  
“It was nice to finally meet you,” said Byulyi offering another handshake. “Hopefully we’ll get to work closer next time.”  
  
“Hopefully,” said Hyejin. “I owe you for reuniting us.”  
  
Wheein’s neck swiveled over to her. The smile Hyejin had was toothy and playful but there was something different in her eyes. Something like hope mixed with pain. Wheein bit the inside of her cheek.  
  
Byulyi laughed, ignorant of what was hidden in their exchange. “We should get going. I’ll go warm up the car,” Byulyi told Wheein before padding off.  
  
“I’m coming, too.” Wheein took a step to follow.  
  
“Hey.” Hyejin’s voice grabbed her, stopping her in place. The hitch in her step was too much to fake that she hadn’t heard. She ended up turning back around, eyes meeting Hyejin’s darkly lined ones. “I’ll be in Korea for a few months.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“Let’s catch up,” she said it like they were back in junior high school proposing a simple hang at the Ahn’s with too much food, too many snacks, and stomachs aching from laughs and sugar overdose.  
  
For a moment, Wheein allowed herself to sink into the familiar molasses that were Hyejin’s eyes and the soft smile that hid mischief behind it all. She snapped out of it. They weren’t kids. They weren’t in junior high. They weren’t who they used to be. They weren’t–  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Hyejin,” her manager called from the stalled car on the curb.  
  
She nodded over to her and blinked back to Wheein. “I’ll find you.”  
  
Wheein wanted to protest but Hyejin was already ducking into her car. The door shut, trapping her behind black tinted windows and Wheein felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off her shoulders.  
  
But with the weight gone, she felt something else. A stirring. Right in her chest.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The production studio was her second home. She sat next to Byulyi at the board listening to the instrumental to one of her tracks. Wheein remembered the first time they did this. She made herself sick with nerves. Remnants of the feeling remained but she was a lot more comfortable now. Byulyi made it that way.  
  
“I like the ornamentation you added,” Byulyi said and started humming the rough vocals that would lay on top.  
  
They made a decent team, Wheein found. Byulyi was open to suggestions, flexible, and willing to try new things. She was kind about the way she handled it all. Went about it like a mentor, teaching Wheein new things in every one of their sessions together. She was admirable, something Wheein saw in her from the very first meeting back in that cafe. Wheein still thought so today.  
  
“There’s a little bit of a rock element to it.”  
  
“Is that bad?” Wheein asked. She got that bit from Janghyun. He introduced her to a lot of bands she never heard of. Some were too strong for her taste but she found herself adding some of the bands onto her playlists.  
  
Byulyi shook her head as she hit rewind to play a segment again. “Different.” Wheein smiled. Different was good. It was new. “This is good. The hook will really make it stand out. I like it.”  
  
Wheein hid her smile by ducking her head to look at her vibrating phone. An unnamed number came with a text notification. Unlocking her phone, she opened it up.  
  
_—I told you I’d find you._  
  
She froze. How the hell?  
  
“Wheein?”  
  
“Sorry, I need to–“ she waved her phone to fill in the blanks. Byulyi nodded and Wheein slipped out of the room and dialed.  
  
“Hi,” Hyejin’s voice was like hot chocolate over the receiver. Warm, raspy, home.  
  
Wheein had to steady herself. “How did you get this number?”  
  
“I have a very good staff.”  
  
That was creepy. “What do you want?”  
  
“Have lunch with me.”  
  
Wheein’s mouth parted in surprise. That was…unexpected. Not that she knew what she was expecting. The question came so naturally and normal. Like it had only been a few days since they’d seen each other, both caught up in the busy schedules of their lives and were trying to catch each other at an opportune moment.  
  
“I’m working.”  
  
“So, dinner. My treat.”  
  
“Hyejin,” she whispered, eyes closing with a sigh. The name felt foreign on her tongue. Her mouth had almost forgotten how to form it. Almost. But it was that almost that had been getting her by the better half of their years of separation. She didn’t want to tread into old territory. “I can’t.”  
  
“You’re the only person I know here other than my staff,” Hyejin whined. It didn’t match the glamorous woman she saw just days ago. “Food is wasted on bad company and I’m tired of having drinks over business.”  
  
Wheein felt her resolve crack. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Humor me.”  
  
She heard footsteps from inside the room. “I have to go.”  
  
“I’ll–”  
  
She hung up before Hyejin could finish and pocketed her phone just as Byulyi stepped into the hallway, messenger bag on her shoulder and coat on. Her eyes looked her over, taking in the flush in Wheein’s cheeks. “Is everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah. Are you leaving for the day?”  
  
“Getting lunch.”  
  
“I’ll come, too.”  
  
Byulyi grinned. “I need to stop at my office first.”  
  
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”  
  
Byulyi’s shoes padded down the hall in time with the vibration of Wheein’s phone. Hyejin’s unknown number was there again with a text. It was an address followed by a simple message:  
  
_—I’ll see you at seven._  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein glanced at the clock from where she sat at the foot of her bed. 7:42PM. Turning, she found her reflection in the closet mirror. Her hair was down, side-parted so it hung unevenly around her face done up in lightly, accented makeup. She was dressed simply, black turtleneck and dark jeans. Her coat waited for her on the hook on the back of her bedroom door, taunting her to snatch it up.  
  
Eyes drifting back to her phone, she stared at the message she typed over an hour ago to tell Hyejin she wasn’t coming but never sent. She was stalling, struck uncomfortable and scared when she realized what she was about to do. And why? Wait. She knew why. Because it was Hyejin. Hyejin was here and Wheein was curious and her mind kept nagging her to just go, just do it, just go see her.  
  
A text chimed in.  
  
_—Waiting._  
  
Wheein sighed. Snatching up her coat, she left her apartment before she could talk herself out of it and took a cab. The drive was long but it felt short no thanks to her ever-worsening nerves. Her entire body was buzzing and fuzzy when the car pulled into a residential area and stopped in front of a house.  
  
Wheein blinked. The house was modest size. Beyond the gate, she could see the glow of yellow path lights. The place beckoned for her. It called to her, tempting her like a Siren. Hyejin was just on the other side of that gate. Of that door. She was close. Closer than she’d been in seven years. Almost closer than she felt in the last few days they saw each other during a night of desperate passion when Hyejin looked at her with eyes so distant but a mouth so close and hands so gentle yet so bruising and words so empty but heavy like stones.  
  
“Is this the right address?” asked the cab driver.  
  
Wheein looked at her phone. It was correct. She was expecting a restaurant. “Yes, thanks.”  
  
She got out and shivered. The cold wasn’t helping her shudders and her fingers shook as she pushed the button on the intercom. A few seconds later, the bolt unlatched and Wheein pushed through. Making her way up the path, she climbed the porch where she paused. Her heart was racing. Her stomach was whirling. Her ears were ringing.  
  
The door opened to Hyejin, an inviting smile gracing her matte, red painted lips. The smells of food wafted out into the night, tickling Wheein’s senses. There was an unmistakable Jeonju flare to the spices she smelt. Her heart lurched.  
  
“You made it.” Teeth poked out of the smile Hyejin could not fully contain. It was so lovely. Wheein had to look away. “Come in.”  
  
Warmth enveloped her as she stepped through the door. She didn’t know what she was expecting to find inside but she didn’t expect the place to be so… _Hyejin._ The choice in art, the dim lighting, the layout. There was no escape from her.  
  
“If you’re wondering, I bought it.” Well, that explained it.  
  
Wheein was taken aback. Hyejin said she was only in Korea for a few months. What would she need to buy a house for when her stay was so short? “You bought it?”  
  
“I hate hotels,” she said as she led them through the entryway and into a sitting room. “I’ve spent the last seven years out of the country and I loved it but I would never live there permanently. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in China. I needed somewhere to come back to.” She dropped onto an ivory couch, arm thrown over the back as she peered over her shoulder at Wheein who was hovering in the entryway. “Do you like it?”  
  
“It suits you.”  
  
“I know, right?” She did that little laugh in her throat. The haughty one that sounded more of a mix between a giggle and a chuckle. Wheein saw a flash of seventeen-year-old Hyejin trapping the two of them into a dark practice room with a turn of the lock. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while. Come sit down.”  
  
Wheein chose a chair. It was just far enough away from Hyejin to maintain a comfortable distance but close enough not to be too obvious. Her eyes swept the area again. It was obvious it wasn’t used for very much. No TV, no comfortable seating, just decor and furniture to fill up the space. Showy. Out there. Going from a nobody, Jeonju girl who saved up lunch money to buy stick-on nails to owning an entire home filled with all the things she liked was incredible.  
  
“I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” started Hyejin. “I had Sujeong on standby in case you stood me up.”  
  
“Sujeong?”  
  
“My manager. I told her about you.”  
  
She probably left out the important parts. All the ones that involved Hyejin as her once other half. “I got held up at the studio,” she lied.  
  
Hyejin’s head tilted into her hand propped on the couch, eyes creasing in a curious narrow. “Is she any good? Your colleague, I mean. Moon Byulyi?”  
  
Wheein nodded that she’d gotten the name right but the edge around the way she said it didn’t go missed. Or maybe Wheein was reading too much into it. “She’s better than anyone we knew.”  
  
Hyejin’s lips pursed at the mention of their old company. “Prove it.”  
  
Wheein snorted. What a childish thing to say. “You have Naver.”  
  
“Right now I have you. Show me something she’s done.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Hyejin waved for her to move. Wheein joined her on the couch and Hyejin sat up. She ignored how close she was as she scrolled through her phone. Finding an older track in her files, she hit play. The sound quality was low from her phone speakers but it wasn’t the music that needed to be taken away from the track. It was the lyrics. Wheein admired Byulyi’s style of writing and her ability to seemingly come up with words so quickly. She was never strong in that aspect though she was getting better under Byulyi’s teaching. She liked those lessons the most. They were oddly intimate, sharing each other's hearts in words of creativity. Byulyi never made her feel silly for what she came up with and Wheein always left those sessions a little more inspired and in awe of the woman.  
  
“Oh,” said Hyejin once the song ended and leaned back.  
  
Wheein cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”  
  
“She’s good.”  
  
Of course, she was good. “She’s one of the main lyricists and producers.”  
  
Hyejin nodded absentmindedly. She didn’t care about the information. “Will you write me a song?”  
  
Wheein laughed, struck off guard by the sudden question. She waited for Hyejin to follow it up with something like a smile or tell her she was kidding but she didn’t. She just looked at Wheein forcing her to sober. “Come on, Hyejin.”  
  
“I mean it.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Wheein winced. “I don’t have time.”  
  
“You don’t have the time or you don’t want to make the time?”  
  
Her lips pursed. “I don’t want to.”  
  
Hyejin’s mouth sealed shut, eyes dead. Wheein couldn’t tell if she was hurt or upset but she knew she didn’t like the unease that settled between them. The knots in her stomach coiled into even tighter bundles and her hands stung.  
  
“Okay,” was all Hyejin said in reply just as a timer went off causing Wheein to noticeably jump. “Dinner’s ready.” She slinked off the couch.  
  
Wheein waited for her breath to return and the tightness in her chest to ease before she got up and followed after.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Hitting five on the elevator, Wheein soared upward. She was nervous. It wasn’t every day that the CEO called you into her office.  
  
Wheein knocked before she entered. Hyori sat behind her desk in a skirt suit and hair down her shoulders. She was youthful even in her age but oozing with charisma and power. She smiled at Wheein and gestured with a hand for her to sit. Wheein’s heart fluttered as she eased into the leather cushion. She had post-traumatic stress when it came to one-on-ones with her directors. She guessed she’d never fully be over what happened all those years ago.  
  
“How are you? Production going well?”  
  
“We’re making progress and should have a few demos for you to hear soon.”  
  
Hyori nodded indifferently. The question was out of formality more than necessity. She already knew what was happening downstairs. “Have you ever written an original soundtrack?” she asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
Hyori tapped on her lip with a finger. Wheein remembered being twelve and lying on Hyejin’s bed while Hyori’s music played out of rickety boombox speakers. Wheein never paid it much mind. Not until now that she was her boss who was looking at her from across a pinewood desk with an unusual amount of perplexity and intrigue.  
  
“A request came for you today,” she started, fingers curling together. Hyori rested her chin on them, body leaned onto the desk. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the actress, Hwasa, but her manager called the company and asked about you. She’s in Korea for a film shooting and the production is looking for someone to write their feature track for the movie. I told them that you’re busy working on idol comebacks and offered some of our other composers, but they insisted on having you.”  
  
“Oh,” was all Wheein could get out.  
  
“Oh?” Hyori repeated, her lips pulled in a smile, “I’m not sure why they asked for you specifically, but I told them I’d speak to you about it and see what you thought.”  
  
“It’s very sudden.”  
  
“It is.” Hyori leaned back into the fine leather of her chair. “The movie is planned to be a success. It’ll be in both national and possibly international markets. This could bring a lot to Cloud and to your reputation as a composer.”  
  
Silence followed and Wheein hurried to fill in the gap waiting for her. “Can I think about it?”  
  
“Think hard about it. A rising star like that creates the perfect wave. Our relationship with her staff is infant, and with this opportunity, it could create an avenue of growth. If we do well, we could be asked to produce more for her in the future. We’ll have a better chance to work with foreign companies.” Hyori met her eye again. “I want an answer in a week.”  
  
Bowing, Wheein left the office. She waited until she was safely back in her office before her phone found place against her ear. She wasn’t surprised there was an answer on the second ring.  
  
“Ahn Hyejin,” she hissed.  
  
“So you heard?” Hyejin sounded so mocking.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?”  
  
“Did you think I was going to give up?”  
  
Wheein seethed. “There are other composers.”  
  
“But I know what you can do.”  
  
Wheein’s stomach did a weird wave. She worked her whole life to please the ones around her. Her parents, her trainers, her bosses. She never had to do that with Hyejin. She gave her approval freely and it never failed to make Wheein feel like she’d truly won at something when Hyejin said things like that so easily and genuinely.  
  
“Do you remember how we always wanted to write a song together?” asked Hyejin, voice low and warm. She spoke like she did when they were all alone together, face to face, inches apart cramped in a bed together with dreams bigger than them. “A real one? One that people would listen to?”  
  
How could she forget?  
  
Wheein sighed. “Goodbye, Hyejin.”  
  
She hung up.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She set her journal on the stand and cracked it open. It was a wonder the thing held up over so many years. She remembered getting it as a gift from her mother before she left for training. She’d had many more since then but Wheein found herself drawn back to the beginnings.  
  
Going through pages, she found what she was looking for. An old, old song. The lyrics were terrible and teeny but the music she’d come up with back then wasn’t _that_ awful. She pulled out a notepad to jot down the changes she was going to make to it.  
  
There was a knock on the door before it opened. Byulyi slid through the crack with an awkward little wave. Wheein smiled. They’d worked together for nearly a year now yet some of their interactions were weird. She didn’t mind. She really liked Byulyi.  
  
“What’s that?” she asked, chin jutting to the ancient thing on the stand. “Looks like a Joseon Dynasty manuscript.”  
  
“Something. Nothing.”  
  
“Something or nothing?” Byulyi’s eyebrow cocked. Wheein’s mouth bobbed. She didn’t know what to say. “Hyori told me.”  
  
Wheein let out a breath. “It’s that.”  
  
“So you’re taking it?” she asked, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned up against the wall. Wheein nodded. “It should get a lot of buzz.”  
  
Wheein scoffed. “I’m sure she’s counting on that.”  
  
“You never talked about her.”  
  
Wheein looked up, following Byulyi’s eye over to her journal. Hyejin had written in the margins. Little notes and hearts and cheesy, childish things. They were so silly when they were teenagers. Silly and love-drunk and naive. Her heart raced but it was too late to hide what was already seen.  
  
“We were best friends,” she admitted, pulling Byulyi’s focus back to her. “Do you remember when I told you I was going to debut? We were going to together.”  
  
“What happened after that?”  
  
Wheein’s jaw tightened. “We…lost touch.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
That night came back to Wheein. Waking up to find Hyejin gone. It had taken her the entire day before she even realized. She started to notice little things missing like certain glasses in the cabinet, a few towels, her shampoo–the one Wheein would steal from her because it smelt nice and she was too lazy to buy her own. When she opened Hyejin’s door to find it near empty, the breath was knocked out of her.  
  
_“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_ That’s what Hyejin said when she finally answered the phone after eleven unanswered calls. Eleven. Wheein almost wished she hadn’t answered on the twelfth.  
  
“Sorry, I need to get back to this,” said Wheein, quietly. She was having one of those weird pains in her chest again. They weren’t like the soul-crushing ones she felt back then. They were little, tiny stabs, poking at the healed wounds left of her past. They were uncomfortable. Too close to home.  
  
“Right.” Byulyi pushed herself off the wall. “Find me when you’re about to go. I think some of us are going out for drinks if you want to come.”  
  
“Okay.” She forced on a smile that fell the moment the door closed.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“And I told him, ‘you’re going to have to find you another actress’, then I left.”  
  
“Just like that?”  
  
“Just like that.” Hyejin grabbed the bottle of wine from the table. “Want some more?” she asked to Wheein who shook her head and filled up her own glass. She took a sip and smacked before continuing. “I thought that the longer I went and the more successful I became the more respect I would get. I was wrong. They still try to take advantage of you. Without Sujeong, I’d probably still be tossed around like I was at that bar.”  
  
“It went under not long after you left.”  
  
“Good riddance,” she hissed into her glass as she took a drink then sat back. She looked over with eyes heavy with wine and lips curled back on flushed cheeks. She looked warm and soft, much different than the new image she sold. “Do you want to watch something?”  
  
Wheein glanced over at the clock. Hours had passed since she arrived as per Hyejin’s dinner request. She got caught up in stories of Hyejin’s years of acting and a couple glasses of drink that made her fuzzy and whisked away the bad feelings and contradictory emotions she had being in Hyejin’s presence again. Impaired judgment was no good in her company when she was looking so sweet. It was probably time to go.  
  
“It’s getting late,” she said, feigning a yawn.  
  
“Fine.” Hyejin pouted. “At least help me clean.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes but got up anyway, taking a chunk of dishes while Hyejin followed up with the others. She flipped on the sink while Hyejin leaned against the counter, glass hung on her fingers. Wheein glanced at her out the corner of her eye. She’d become elegant but not superficially. As though all the training and tips and coaching she’d gotten had actually just become apart of her normal makeup. It looked good on her. It made the expensive clothes she wore and the pretty silk robe that fell off her shoulders seem natural.  
  
“You’re staring.”  
  
“You’re different.”  
  
“So are you,” Hyejin countered. Her words were as sluggish as the lazy way her eyes dragged over Wheein, taking her all in. Wheein shrugged and started on another dish. “What did you do all that time?”  
  
“Without you?”  
  
That jab sobered her enough to give a terse, “Without me.”  
  
_I learned how to be me,_ she wanted to say. Instead, she said, “Get fat in front of the TV.”  
  
Hyejin laughed. “And music?”  
  
“Here and there.” Wheein looked over to see Hyejin grinning at her. “What?”  
  
“Oh, nothing.” Wheein flicked water at her face. Hyejin glared. “You’ll ruin a perfectly good glass of wine.”  
  
“With what? A soap bubble?”  
  
“This is expensive.”  
  
Wheein scoffed. “Don’t talk like them, you’re going to make me vomit.”  
  
“Them?”  
  
“Like all those others who walk on red carpets.”  
  
“You’ll walk on one yourself one day.”  
  
Wheein guffawed. She kept to herself that she’d gone to events with Byulyi before. They didn’t seem to count. She was mostly a guest, new to the scene, networking with other artists and soaking up new aspects of her real life.  
  
“You will.” Hyejin’s voice purred close by. It was then that Wheein noticed she had closed the distance between them. She didn’t dare look over into the dark eyes that were looking at her. “Just write me a song. You’ll see.”  
  
“This again?” Wheein sighed.  
  
“Write me a song?” A chin rested on her shoulder. “Please?”  
  
Wheein’s nerves wound. Too close. Too, too close. “Hyejin.”  
  
“Wheein.” Her hand slid down the length of her arm. Fingers curled around the ones that held a glass she was washing, halting her. “Write Hyejin a song.”  
  
“Stop.” Pushing back, she drew herself away from Hyejin, away from her heat, away from the static between them. She could barely meet Hyejin’s eyes that stared at her from across the kitchen where she left her by the running faucet and foaming bubbles. “Don’t do that. I can’t think when you touch me.”  
  
“What’s there to think about?”  
  
That’s how things used to be. Being with Hyejin was like breathing, like her heart beating. Automatic, painless, easy. She didn’t need to hesitate with Hyejin because she knew Hyejin had her, would always catch her, would always steer her correctly.  
  
Well...she used to think that.  
  
“Hyejin-ah,” it slipped off her lips fluidly. It was the spell of the house, of Hyejin’s touch, of the smells of familiar cooking. She was twelve again and Hyejin was talking her into auditioning for a company together. “What you’re asking…”  
  
“Is it too much?”  
  
If it wasn’t, everything else was. Seeing her again, talking to her again, feeling her touch again. Wheein lifted her eyes from the tile. Hyejin held herself up with a hip against the counter, silk robe fallen off her shoulders leaving them bare. Wheein remembered sinking her teeth into that shoulder, body trapped beneath Hyejin as she let fingers glide in a way that made Wheein mumble and moan and melt. The base of her stomach warmed, spreading heat into places she didn’t want.  
  
“Don’t you want to?” Hyejin crossed the room for her. Wheein didn’t have it in her to evade her again. “We can get what we always wanted.” She dropped half her weight onto a hand poised on the counter Wheein was leaned against, trapping her. “One more chance?”  
  
Wheein licked her lips, face flushing. There were so many meanings in what Hyejin was saying. “There aren’t chances for people like us.”  
  
“All I want is a song,” she said, voice soft. Her words said one thing but her eyes said more. That she wanted more. Wheein’s stomach whirled at the tiniest of thoughts.  
  
“You don’t have to beg,” Wheein muttered.  
  
“You don’t like that anymore?”  
  
“God.” Heat shot through Wheein. Hyejin was right there. So close. Close enough to smell the fragrance of wine on her breath and see the wide, blackness of her pupils. She was electrifying. Stunning. She wasn’t a thought or a dream she was real. She was real.  
  
“Wheein,” her voice was dark, deep velvet. “Please?”  
  
“I already wrote one,” she muttered.  
  
That tripped Hyejin up for a moment. Her lips parted in surprise. “Really?”  
  
Wheein didn’t want to admit how seeing Hyejin light up lit her up. “Come to the studio and I’ll show you.”  
  
Hyejin’s lips brushed across her cheek as she leaned in to mutter a soft, “Thank you,” into her ear.  
  
Then her body was gone, sashaying out of the kitchen. The fire in Wheein’s bones remained.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
The degree of Hyejin’s success never fully reached Wheein until she was brought to the studio. People recognized her. They greeted her with a different sort of attention and flare than any usual client. It was like Jr. High all over again but with glamor. Wheein watched Hyejin navigate through it, smiling in the right places, laughing in others. She kept it all up until they reached one of the production studios and the door shut on just the two of them. Like a switch, she was Ann Hyejin again.  
  
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, eyes taking in the space. It was one of the medium-sized rooms with couches and new sound padding on the walls. There was a mini-fridge stocked with waters in the corner and a spread of snacks on a small end table. “So this is your kingdom.” Hyejin chuckled softly to herself as she rounded the room. “Jung Wheein, Queen of Sound.”  
  
“Sit down.”  
  
Hyejin took a seat on the couch while Wheein went for the chair at the soundboard. She could feel eyes watching her as she flicked on the board and got everything ready. It made her nervous. Especially when she turned back to see Hyejin staring at her with a hint of a smile and head tilted onto her propped fist.  
  
“You look good there,” said Hyejin.  
  
Wheein ignored the swell of pride that gave her and went into business. “The song isn’t finished. It’s only a demo.”  
  
“I know how this works.” She waved a hand. “Play it.”  
  
Her nerves heightened when she hit play. Music played the slow and stylistic sound of a ballad. Wheein mouthed the words to herself while Hyejin tapped the tempo against her chin with a finger. Three minutes and twenty seconds came and went. There was silence when the song was over. Only the hum of the air conditioner, the buzz of equipment, that soft beat, beat, beat of Wheein’s pulse were left. She looked over at Hyejin, surprised to see her dab fingers at the corner of her eyes.  
  
“That was beautiful,” she said, voice raspy with emotion.  
  
Usually, Wheein would just say thank you and go into questions about what could be changed or what parts were liked the best. But Hyejin was no usual client nor her CEO nor Byulyi. Her hands were sweat-damp and her heart was in her throat. She’d been writing songs for years. So many years. She never once thought she’d actually, truly, write one for Hyejin for something greater than them. It filled her with so many emotions. Seeing Hyejin this way, knowing she was genuinely impressed with her–proud of her–turned her insides into mush.  
  
“It sounds familiar.”  
  
“I wrote it. Back then,” she revealed.  
  
Hyejin smiled then dropped her head. Fingers touched at the inner corners of her eyes, taking away what tears tried to seep from there. Wheein fluttered her own lashes, forcing herself to hold back. The air in the room was charged with old emotions. She could feel them fuzzy on her tongue and in her fingers and in her legs.  
  
Hyejin sniffed and looked up finally. The dim light of the studio made her look more beautiful than ever. That, and the smile on her face. God, Wheein always loved her smile. Loved making her smile. “If my movie doesn’t make number one, this song will.”  
  
Wheein crossed her arms over her chest to hold everything in. “You’re a good actress.”  
  
“You’ve seen me?”  
  
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Sort of.”  
  
“I used to search for you, too,” Hyejin admitted. “I thought a name like Wheein would be easy to find. When it brought up some weird band, I didn’t think it was you. Finally, I clicked and there you were.”  
  
Wheein’s mouth parted. Hyejin had seen her. Hyejin had been looking for her. Suddenly Wheein remembered all those times she spent looking up Hyejin after the night she saw her on that crappy screen in the gas station convenience store.  
  
“There was this link to a festival,” Hyejin went on. “It was in Jeonju. I’ve never seen you so happy.”  
  
“I loved them.”  
  
“I saw. I kept seeing it. There were so many links…” She smiled but there was a twinge of sadness. Wheein thought she could feel it, too. The regret. The pain of not being there. She remembered so many times wishing Hyejin was there as well. Somewhere along the way, she stopped thinking about Hyejin as much. “Cloud was right to hire you.”  
  
She dropped her eyes out of modesty, a smile playing on her lips when she remembered the call she got from Byulyi. “I didn’t do it on my own.”  
  
“So? They’d be stupid not to take a chance. You’re still one of the most talented people I know.”  
  
Wheein scoffed but it was weak. She was slipping. She was warm and vulnerable and slipping with every word Hyejin spoke. “Maybe you should meet new people.”  
  
“I’ve met a lot of people,” said Hyejin, eyes so serious and focused Wheein could feel the weight of them. “But I’ve only met one of you.”  
  
Wheein’s heart burst and she snapped. Soft cotton crinkled in her hand as she gripped the front of Hyejin’s blouse, steadying herself from the lunge across the room. A gasp sucked passed Hyejin’s lips just before Wheein’s fell on hers. Shock held Hyejin paralyzed but Wheein didn’t stop. She moved her lips against maroon painted ones, ignoring the way the color smudged on her mouth. She didn’t care. She swiped her tongue across stunned lips, sparking Hyejin awake. The ice melted away and a hand curved around her neck, sharp nails combing into her hair and pulling her closer.  
  
Wheein panted into the kiss that became more kisses. They’d lost the coordination they had in their youth but there was a bursting familiarity and a starved desire that took the reigns and brought them to a new speed.  
  
Teeth nipped at her lip and Wheein whimpered when the hand in her hair tugged, pulling her back just enough for their eyes to meet. Wheein stared at her, tongue darting out to lick at her lips.  
  
“You’re shaking,” said Hyejin. Wheein kept to herself that Hyejin was, too. She was shaking and her eyes were blown and her mouth was a mess. Wheein was a mess. Painfully so, burning and aching and needy.  
  
“Take me home,” she whispered, voice like a growl that took Hyejin by surprise and lit a fire in her eyes. “Before I regret this, take me home.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
What was she thinking? She wasn’t thinking. She didn’t want to think.  
  
They clamored into Hyejin’s home, impatience fueling their steps as they winded the hallways and broke into a bedroom. Wheein didn't have more than a second to take it in when she was spun around and taken up into arms. Lips descended onto hers and she kissed back, drunk on the taste of Hyejin’s mouth.  
  
“I need to touch you,” Hyejin purred.  
  
Wheein turned around for Hyejin to strip off her blazer. Hands returned, circling around her to get to the buttons of her shirt but they were clumsy. Wheein fell forward, hands just catching herself as she toppled halfway onto the bed so her torso bent over the mattress and her knees hit the floor. She giggled. “Hyejin, we–“  
  
“I don’t care,” she hissed into her ear, body draping over her from behind. “I’ll take you right here. Just like this.”  
  
Wheein’s moan turned into a gasp when remaining buttons were freed. Hot hands soared up her stomach and into her bra, pushing up the fabric so she could cup her chest. Teeth nibbled at her ear and Wheein suppressed a squeak. Hyejin was inpatient. She always had been, but the lust, the want, the years was making her even more so.  
  
“Hyejin.”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
She didn’t know what she wanted to say. It didn’t matter. Her brain went hazy when a hand hooked around her waist and slid down into messy, wet heat. An audible breath left her lips when Hyejin swirled fingertips around her entrance, coating them in her slick before smoothing up over her clit. Wheein moaned out loud at the force of the pulse her touch brought. It had been so long since she opened herself up to anyone like this. She was hypersensitive and desperate.  
  
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed everything about you.” Hyejin accented each sentence with a kiss to her neck, behind her ear, on the back of her shoulders, hot breath like licks of fire against Wheein’s skin. “You still feel so good.”  
  
Wheein whimpered. Hyejin was always vocal about how she felt but she never talked like _this._ It was driving her crazy. It was all so unreal. Hyejin here? Hyejin kissing her? Touching her? Her body was alive and needy and wildly responsive to the touch it once knew and craved. Every stroke drew out those old emotions and brought them to the surface with a force.  
  
“I want to be inside of you.”  
  
“God, Hyejin.” Wheein pulsed. She wanted it, too. “Just– please.”  
  
Hyejin got what she wanted and Wheein gripped the comforter. She rocked back against the rhythm that rocked her, her insides bursting at the seams with everything. With everything she ever felt for Hyejin, about Hyejin, and with Hyejin. It all crumbled onto her, building higher and higher until she couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
And Wheein cried into the mattress, actual tears soaking into the bedsheets as Hyejin let her crest and fall.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Dim light and soft cushions, Wheein woke draped in sheets and tangled with another set of limbs. Eyes opening, she lolled her head to the side to find a sleepy gaze staring back at her. There was the softest play of a smile across Hyejin’s mouth as she stroked fingers through the ends of Wheein’s hair. The scene was incredibly soft and intimate. Despite all that Wheein bore the night before, the walls that she let down, now in this moment, didn’t feel quite right.  
  
“I like your hair like this,” said Hyejin, voice raspy from sleep. Wheein rolled her eyes but the tint of pink in her cheeks couldn’t be hidden. Hyejin held a lock of hair in her fingers. “It reminds me of when we first met.”  
  
Wheein didn’t know what to say. Hyejin looked like a new person. “It’s hard looking at you sometimes.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Because it showed their years apart. Because Wheein had spent those years apart growing passed Hyejin. Because this probably shouldn’t be happening and reality was finally sinking in. She couldn’t make sense of what she was feeling. Guilt, fear, want, desire, emptiness, loss, confusion, need, relief, regret? She was a mess inside and Hyejin’s words only made it that much worse.  
  
“I missed you.”  
  
Wheein’s jaw tightened. In the heat of passion, those words were okay. In the wake of everything, they just hurt. “Don’t say that.”  
  
“Why not?” She let go of the strand to tuck it behind Wheein’s ear. Fingertips grazed the soft skin of the shell there. Wheein hated that it made her shudder. “Does it bother you?”  
  
“I don’t want to pretend that this is okay.”  
  
“Isn’t it?”  
  
“No.” Wheein sat up. The blanket fell away, exposing her naked top. She drew the sheet to cover herself. “I shouldn’t be here with you.”  
  
“Didn’t you miss me?” Her brow furrowed in genuine hurt.  
  
Wheein tripped over her words. She hated to see Hyejin hurt. “That’s not the point. Hyejin, you–we–”  
  
“We what?”  
  
She remembered something. “Aren’t you dating Kwon Hyukwoo?”  
  
The confusion and shock that hit Hyejin’s face was almost comical. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”  
  
“It’s in the news,” Wheein lied but she be damned if she admitted she dug through the internet to find out about Hyejin’s romantic life regardless of how littered with rumors and Dispatch pictures it was.  
  
“Is it?” She smirked, eyebrow cocking. Wheein glared and Hyejin sighed. “We’re not dating.” Wheein snorted. “We’re not. We met through a mutual friend and ran into each other one day. We ended up having lunch together and the rumors spread after that.”  
  
“You haven’t denied them.”  
  
“Eventually.” Hyejin shrugged. There was something in her tone. Annoyance? Disinterest? “My manager thinks it’s good for my image. She said I needed some sort of scandal before people started to get ideas.”  
  
“Ideas?”  
  
“Don’t act stupid, you know what I mean.”  
  
Wheein frowned. She knew. God, she knew. The fear and the risk of it was heightened all the more because it had ruined her, ruined them, once a long time ago. Wheein didn’t ever stop to think about how that affected Hyejin in her career while they were separated. She thought Hyejin had moved on, gotten her a pretty man like the ones she used to talk about back in junior high.  
  
“Do they…know?”  
  
“Sujeong does, but it’s only been you as far as–” Hyejin waved a hand up and down Wheein’s body, trying to get the point across. Wheein got it. She was the only woman Hyejin had ever been with that way. “I’ve seen people. They’re nice, sweet, the money isn’t bad either.” She chuckled to herself before it turned into a sigh. “Nothing has felt right, though. Then I remember you.”  
  
Wheein’s stomach did waves. “This is so wrong.”  
  
“Is it?”  
  
“It’s weird, Hyejin.”  
  
“Hm?” Hyejin’s hand ran up Wheein’s leg over the sheet.  
  
She pulled away before she could get swept in. “Why now?”  
  
“Why now what?”  
  
Frustration erupted in her. “What we did, what we were, all the time you could never tell me how you felt about me. Why now?”  
  
Buzzing went off somewhere in the room. Wheein glanced over to the night table to see Hyejin’s phone sitting dark on its charging pad. It wasn’t hers. It was–  
  
Crap.  
  
Scrambling out of bed, she went for her pants discarded on the floor and dug her phone from the pocket. Her stomach dropped when she saw Byulyi’s name on the screen.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Wheein?”  
  
“Byul!” She lowered her voice. “Hey.”  
  
“I’m here.”  
  
She pinched her eyes shut. So that’s what that alarm notification she let Hyejin turn off and put her on her back was buzzing for. “I forgot.”  
  
Byulyi laughed. It wasn’t unusual for Wheein to oversleep sometimes or for something she didn’t write down on her calendar to slip her mind. She was grateful that Byulyi thought it adorable in an annoyed sort of way. She was grateful Byulyi didn’t know the truth. “I can wait. Can I come up?”  
  
“I’m– where were we going? I’ll meet you there. I...” she looked over to see Hyejin open her closet, naked and radiant in the glow of morning light coming through the window. She tore her eyes away. “I’ll be a while.”  
  
“Okay…? I’ll send you the address.”  
  
She hung up.  
  
“Plans?” asked Hyejin, pulling on a black, silk negligée. She was so beautiful it made Wheein’s mouth go dry. Oh, what time had done to them.  
  
“I have to go. Can I shower?”  
  
“If you want.” Wheein’s brow furrowed at her tone. Hyejin cocked an eyebrow. “What? Towels are in the linen closet. You’ll find them. I’m going to make breakfast.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Snatching up her clothes, she headed for the bathroom.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She was twenty minutes late. Usually, she wouldn’t feel so bad but it wasn’t just Byulyi she was meeting.  
  
Bidding her apologies, Wheein slipped into her seat and jotted notes down until the end. Bows were exchanged and hands shaken as the meeting dismissed. Wheein followed Byulyi out into the parking garage where they got into her car.  
  
“I heard Hwasa came to the studio to hear the song,” said Byulyi as they pulled onto the street to head to the studio. “Did you leave together? I didn’t see you afterward.”  
  
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. She wanted to catch up.”  
  
“No wonder you sounded so dazed on the phone. You could’ve told me you two went out late. I could’ve stalled for you better.”  
  
Wheein coughed out an uneasy laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”  
  
“It’s okay to brag. It’s different since you were actually friends. Who knew, our little Wheein knows famous celebrities.” Two fingers pinched at her cheek jokingly. Wheein had to force herself to smile. “It must be weird seeing each other after so long.”  
  
She had no idea. “Yeah.”  
  
“Just don’t make a habit of it. I need your focus on this one.”  
  
“I know. I promise.”  
  
“Lighten up. You’re not in trouble.” Byulyi tapped her on the shoulder with a fist. It was a simple gesture but it made Wheein feel a little better. Byulyi always made her feel better with the little things. “Why don’t you come over tonight? I can order in and we can work on the songs and forget about the whole thing.”  
  
Wheein smiled. She could use that. “Yeah, okay.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Byulyi’s place was a safe haven. Wheein had only been a few times, mostly just to meet up before riding out together. There was a sense of familiarity and comfort about being there. Wheein felt like she could breathe in a way she hadn’t been able to do since Hyejin’s return. It reminded her of all those years back when Byulyi swept in unexpectedly and became her saving grace in such a desolate time.  
  
“Beer or soju?” called Byulyi from the kitchen.  
  
“Both?”  
  
Byulyi came into the living room with a six pack and a bottle of soju tucked under her arm. “You drink like me.”  
  
Wheein took the can offered to her and took a sip. The beer went down cold but fizzed warm in her stomach. She chased it down with steaming ramyun that they bought from the convenience store up the street. They went out for so many meals and dinners with the company that the simplicity of what they were having now was comforting.  
  
“We’ll need strings so we need to set up a recording date with the orchestra,” started Byulyi before diving into the logistics and schedules.  
  
They went on, talking through business until plates were finished and the last of the cans were popped open. The alcohol made her warm. It reminded her of the night at Hyejin’s trapped against her body and the counter with no way of escaping. Except this was Byulyi and she looked at Wheein with a sweet sort of fondness and leaned back on her hands with the ease of good company and a close friend. Wheein relaxed, letting thoughts of Hyejin slip away.  
  
“How is the song coming?” she asked, slurping the sliver of beer off the rim of the can.  
  
“There’s still a lot to do.” She still had to hire musicians to record the orchestral parts, finish out recordings with Hyejin around her shooting schedule, and fine-tune the instrumental.  
  
“Will you sing a little of it for me?”  
  
Wheein’s face got hot. “Really?”  
  
“I haven’t heard it yet.”  
  
Wheein covered her face with her hands causing Byulyi to laugh at her. She didn’t know why she got so nervous all of a sudden. She should be used to singing in front of Byulyi by now. “Okay, but don’t laugh.”  
  
“Why would I laugh?”  
  
“It’s weird without music.”  
  
Byulyi poked her in the dimple with a chopstick. “Sing it, Wheenie.”  
  
She colored at the nickname and took in a breath. The lyrics were a little corny and sappy but it worked for an OST she guessed. They were raw and dramatic just like her emotions back when she was a teen and she had first scrawled them onto paper. They were so telling of what she felt for Hyejin back then. Things like her world would cave without her, she didn’t know how to breathe without her, she would be lost without her.  
  
Wheein sang the last chorus with a strange feeling. She hadn’t felt like that for Hyejin in a long time. Thinking back now, it was terrifying that she had at one point.  
  
The apartment went quiet when she finished. Embarrassment got the best of her and she ducked her head when she saw Byulyi grinning over at her all dopey and lopsided. Wheein wasn’t sure why but it made her stomach wavy.  
  
“Why did I take so long to find you?” said Byulyi, softly. Her grin was still intact but there was no joking tone in her voice. It burned something in Wheein.  
  
She took a gulp of beer in attempts to cool herself off but the way Byulyi was looking at her countered her efforts. “I don’t know.”  
  
“I’m happy to have you on my team,” Byulyi went on. “I think we’ll make a lot of great things together.”  
  
“Me, too.”  
  
“You could be a producer one day.”  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“Stay with me. You’ll see.” She ruffled Wheein’s hair. If it were anyone else she would’ve been offended but from Byulyi she knew it was a high form of endearment. “Wait here.” Byulyi got up. When she came back, she was holding something large and square wrapped in kraft paper. Wheein eyed it as Byulyi returned to her seat on the floor beside her. “For you.”  
  
Wheein was hesitant to take it from her hands. “What is it?”  
  
“Open it.”  
  
Finding a flap on the back, Wheein ran her finger underneath it and peeled the paper back. Inside was vinyl cases in a matte, golden yellow case. Sliding the disc out, she read the title:  
  
_Mixtapes, Vol 1_  
  
Wheein’s brow furrowed. Byulyi had given her a lot of music in the past and present but none exactly like this. “Who’s it by?”  
  
“You,” said Byulyi. Wheein blinked. “They’re from the tapes you gave me. I thought you would like it. I know I did.”  
  
Wheein looked down at the vinyl again, shocked to be holding something that had her voice on it. “Byul…”  
  
“Not your thing?” she asked with genuine worry.  
  
“No, it’s…” she was at a loss for words. No one had ever done such a gesture for her. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“I was trying to wait until your actual one year with Cloud anniversary but I got impatient.” She scratched the back of her head with a laugh. “Surprise!”  
  
Wheein smiled. “Thank you.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll produce your real album one day.” She tapped the bottom of Wheein’s chin with a curved knuckle. “We both will.”  
  
Wheein was speechless. The way Byulyi was looking at her made red blotch across Wheein’s cheeks and her insides tangled. “I don’t know what do.”  
  
“We can toast,” said Byulyi, lifting her shot glass. “To music,”  
  
Wheein clinked their glasses together. She was so warm. Warm and thankful and fuzzy. She hadn’t felt so warm since the days she was traveling with Yongsun and the boys and that told her something. Like she had made the right decision, like she found a real friend within Byulyi, like she was headed in the right direction.  
  
Wheein liked it. She was slowly adapting to this new world. Byulyi’s world. Calm, mellow, easy, steady, and alive.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Hyejin’s world gave her whiplash.  
  
An arm held her around the waist, keeping her steady as fingers rode into her from a hand working between her legs. A knee held up one of her thighs, holding her open. The awkward balance of weight dug the small of her back into the edge of the island countertop. She could hardly feel the pain. She wasn’t worried about that. Nor was she concerned about the ingredients of an interrupted dinner preparation that were spread out just behind her, forgotten and abandoned in favor of a different sort of work.  
  
“I can feel you,” Hyejin muttered, breathy and dark. Their foreheads were pressed together and each jerk of her wrist made their lips brush. “I can feel how close you are.”  
  
Wheein wanted to say something back, but she couldn’t find her voice. Her words were stolen by mewls and little whimpers. Teeth stole her bottom lip, biting just enough to hurt but shot pleasure into her gut where it joined with the fuzzy tingles that were growing ever stronger inside her already.  
  
“Do you know how sexy you are like this?”  
  
_"Unng,_ Hyejin–“ Arms tightened around Hyejin’s neck, pulling her even closer. Tighter.  
  
“Let me have you.”  
  
Wheein crumbled. Her insides sparked, body pulsing, leaving her legs and arms and face tingly warm and numb. She took in breaths, steadying her heartbeat. She was buzzing. Hyejin always left her buzzing. The haze left her eyes and she caught Hyejin’s smug little smirk that played on her lips.  
  
"I need to sit down,” she rasped out.  
  
Supporting her weight, Hyejin guided them over to the living room couch where she let her lay down on the soft cushions before disappearing. Wheein waited for her, body slowly coming down from the high she just coasted on. When Hyejin returned with a water bottle and a straw when she could feel her legs again.  
  
“Here." She sipped. Each swallow soothing her scratchy throat. “How are you feeling?” She sipped the water herself, lips puckered around the straw. Wheein had a sudden urge to kiss her. She stayed still.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
Hyejin laughed but there was an insecure edge in how she asked, "do you?"  
  
"Yes, some."  
  
"Because I blew your mind?” she wiggled her eyebrows and sank down onto the chair opposite her.  
  
Wheein blushed. ”Yes."  
  
Hyejin threw her hair haughtily over her shoulder but her gaze was serious. ”I thought you missed me."  
  
"Don't be stupid, I did miss you. I can still hate you."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Wheein's jaw flexed. She wasn't expecting that. More so, she wasn't expecting how those two words yanked at her heart and stung at the corners of her eyes. "You left me."  
  
“Do you know I almost came back?”  
  
Wheein’s eyebrows lifted, struck off guard for the second time. They were always truthful with one another. They were able to tell each other their woes and problems with ease aside from when it came to how they felt for one another. The way Hyejin was able to be so nonchalant with her honesty now was unnerving.  
  
“I felt so guilty leaving you behind,” Hyejin went on. “My coach told me I should get rid of whatever was making me depressed. So, I got rid of you.”  
  
Wheein’s felt her words like a stab. So that was why she was suddenly so easily shut out from Hyejin’s world. That’s why her calls were met with unavailable recordings. That’s why Hyejin didn’t try to reach out to her within it all.  
  
“I felt guilty about that, too, but then I was so involved in practicing and work that I didn’t have time to think about it.” Hyejin wrung her wrists, a new nervous habit. Catching herself, she clasped them together in her crossed lap. “Eventually, it didn’t hurt anymore but I still thought of you. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get rid of you.” She coughed out a laugh. “You know that movie where the dragon gives the guy part of his heart? That’s how it feels with you. Like I literally have a part of you inside me and if I take it out I’ll die.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes despite the heat she felt in her chest. “You’re being dramatic.”  
  
“I know you feel it, too,” Hyejin snipped. “You wouldn’t still look at me that way if you didn’t.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Like I’m your world.”  
  
Wheein tensed. “Hyejin–“  
  
“You’re still my everything.”  
  
Wheein didn’t have anything to say to that. What? That Hyejin meant nothing to her anymore? That was a lie. It didn’t matter how many years had gone by, Hyejin still took up a place in her heart. Something she would probably never be able to be completely rid of.  
  
Hyejin let out a breath and craned her neck back to peer at the clock hanging high off the wall. “I don’t feel like cooking anymore. I can order food and make it up to you in the morning.”  
  
“Morning?”  
  
“Stay with me.”  
  
Wheein snorted. “That sounds familiar.”  
  
Hyejin sneered but it didn’t come quick enough to hide the slap of what Wheein said. “Does it make you feel better knowing your words hurt me?”  
  
“I wish it did.” Grabbing the throw on the back of the couch, Wheein draped it over her naked thighs as she sat up. The wonderful moment they had together in the kitchen felt like an eternity ago. Now she was cold and irritated. “I hate what you did to us.”  
  
Hyejin’s face fell. It was the first time Wheein saw such a broken expression on her since they’d been reunited. “Wheein, I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you. I left you because I wanted to learn how to love myself. The life we had then was killing us–you know it was. You saw how miserable I was and so were you.”  
  
“We could’ve worked it out.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
_Maybe_. The word was empty. Wheein herself felt the void within the words she spoke. They were on a course to nowhere stuck in that apartment. Hyejin felt suffocated and Wheein’s life had no meaning. The only part she cared about then was Hyejin. That was no way to live.  
  
Wheein looked up. “Why wouldn’t you just be with me?”  
  
Hyejin stilled. What few guards she had left let down. “I was scared,” she said, softly. “No one wanted me like you and the ones who did they…”  
  
Wheein tensed. It had been a long time since she thought about the past. About their parents, about Hyejin’s father, about annoying trainee boys, about sleazy bar customers. Wheein didn’t really get it, not completely, but she could understand now. How hard it must’ve been for Hyejin to give herself completely even to the person who loved her truly when everyone else hurt her in ways she would carry forever.  
  
They were both scarred from the past in their own ways. Wheein let herself be consumed in everything that was Hyejin because she had no one else while Hyejin held her at just the right distance to keep from ruining what little bit she had left of herself back then. It made Wheein think about their time apart. What it did to them. How it healed them. How Wheein was able to stand on her own and Hyejin was slowly able to be more true to herself.  
  
“I don’t hate you for leaving,” said Wheein after a moment. “Not anymore.” Wheein saw relief wash over Hyejin. It lifted something in herself to see it.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Dropping back against the couch, Wheein sighed. “I want samgyupsal.”  
  
Hyejin smiled. “I’ll call it in.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“Oh!” Byulyi stopped, catching them coming through the building. “Hwasa, you’re back.”  
  
She flashed a smile. “You can call me Hyejin.”  
  
“Hyejin then,” Byulyi amended. “Nice to see you again. Wheein likes to keep you all to herself.”  
  
“She can be the possessive type.” Hyejin smirked. “Are you joining us today?”  
  
“No”–she draped an arm over Wheein’s shoulder pulling her close–”Wheein’s good enough to walk off leash now.”  
  
“Where are you headed?” Wheein cut in before Hyejin could even take a breath to respond. She saw the way Hyejin regarded them.  
  
“There’s a new intern from the States Hyori wants me to meet,” said Byulyi, letting her loose. “I’ll find you later?”  
  
“Okay.” Wheein waved her off.  
  
Entering the studio, Wheein closed the door behind them. It was cold inside. Good for her burning cheeks and the buzzing heat that the conversation in the hall rose up in her stomach.  
  
“She’s cute.”  
  
The burn in her face returned and Wheein nearly dropped the notebooks in her hands. “What?”  
  
“Your colleague.” Hyejin chuckled, legs crossing where she made herself comfortable on the couch. “In an awkward, hamster sort of way. It’s amazing she’s as good as she is. I would’ve never guessed she was a producer.”  
  
Wheein cut her a look. She knew that tone. “Jealous?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Wheein looked away from Hyejin before she could decide if the glint in her eye was true jealousy or if the little kink at the corner of her mouth meant she was joking. “Byul is nice.”  
  
Hyejin laughed but it was empty. “Just nice?”  
  
“She’s been there for me.”  
  
Hyejin went quiet and Wheein couldn’t help but remember when Byulyi was there when Hyejin was so close yet so far away. She saved her in that time, rekindled passions that she had let go. In a way, that’s when Wheein started to live. She started to make something of herself for herself while Yongsun came in and launched her even further forward.  
  
Wheein had a lot to thank Byulyi for. She was a catalyst to something greater than Wheein ever imagined herself becoming. And it wasn’t just because she could make them money. Byulyi believed in her. She pushed Wheein for the sake of Wheein. She was honest and open and reassuring and confident and grounded. She breathed into Wheein what she never had. Even in her days with Hyejin, feeding off of her, following her, using her as her ground to walk on, Wheein never felt as rooted as she did now. She never felt so cared for until Byulyi.  
  
“Do you like it here?”  
  
Wheein looked up from the knobs on the board to the glass in front of her where Hyejin now stared at her from the otherside, headphones on and mic hovering in front of her face. There was something about the way she said it. It was the same thing Wheein saw in her eyes–the way she was staring at her. Worried? Concerned? Hurt? Guilt?  
  
“So far,” Wheein answered honestly. She truly loved it regardless of how scary things still were. Her success was taking off to heights and at speeds she didn’t expect but there was nothing to worry about. Not like before.  
  
“That’s new.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wheein’s eyes narrowed.  
  
Hyejin shrugged. “I’m happy for you.”  
  
“Are you?”  
  
Hyejin’s defenses melted away giving the simple, “Yes,” she said a weight that shook Wheein’s heart. “You deserve it. Everything here, you deserve it.”  
  
Wheein’s shoulders tensed and her stomach fluttered and her chest tightened. “We should start recording,” she said softly into the intercom mic. “Ready?”  
  
Hyejin cleared her throat. “Ready.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Drinks with Byulyi had always been sort of a thing but it wasn’t until lately that Wheein found herself looking forward to them all the more. It was her escape. A stroke of normalcy in her world that had been discolored as of late.  
  
They picked a jazz bar for the night with good music and reasonably priced drinks. Wheein picked up her phone and opened a picture message from Hyejin. She was on set and bored according to the caption. Wheein typed in a reply just as Byulyi returned to the booth with new drinks.  
  
They drank in silence as they watched the band on stage. Wheein closed her eyes letting the brass and bass wash over her. It was a lot different than the pop scene she was surrounded by everyday. It was cozy and relaxing. It was just what she needed. She wondered how Byulyi always knew and suggested the things she needed at the right moments.  
  
“It reminds me of the night we met,” said Byulyi, sipping at the pink concoction in her glass.  
  
Wheein felt an array of things at the memory her words brought. “I was living with Hyejin then.”  
  
Byulyi’s eyebrows lifted as she looked over to Wheein across the table. It was small and round so their knees bumped occasionally underneath. Wheein felt Byulyi’s brush hers as she turned to face her in her chair. “You never mentioned her then.”  
  
“I didn’t know how.” Wheein bit her lip, fingers playing with the straw sticking out of her drink. “We’re not what we used to be.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“We were…we weren’t just best friends.”  
  
She saw the realization hit Byulyi in waves. The lightbulb went off and what Wheein was waiting for to feel in relief didn’t come. She felt dirty inside. She didn’t know why. Byulyi didn’t look at her any differently. She didn’t turn up her nose in disgust the way her aunt had or walk away from her or follow up with some judgemental comment. She felt wrong because it brought what she and Hyejin had between them into the light.  
  
They weren’t just friends, they were something more just shy of something and then they were no more until now that they were... _this_. Whatever this was. It was the this that made Wheein shift uncomfortably in her chair and replay all their evenings and nights spent together in the last few weeks. They were the same. Dinner followed by bedsheets with guilt brought in the morning. They were no better than when they left off, feeding off old emotions.  
  
“No wonder it’s so tense every time she’s around,” said Byulyi after a moment.  
  
Wheein could see her putting the pieces together. It made her stomach hurt. She felt ashamed knowing Byulyi was smart enough to figure it out. “That night at the restaurant was the first time I saw her in years.”  
  
Byulyi nodded and downed the rest of her drink. “How is it having her back?”  
  
“It’s not the same.” Not like when they were teenagers. That was the happiest time they had together. After that, they were stuck in a sort of tumultuous limbo yet to be broken. Wheein was almost afraid to. Letting Hyejin passed the new boundaries she created, letting her whisk her way into depths like before, was terrifying. So she didn’t let her.  
  
“Are you two still…” Byulyi waved her empty glass around, trying to convey the unspoken words.  
  
Wheein caught on creating a blush in her cheeks. “No. Not exactly, no.”  
  
“Not exactly?”  
  
“It’s complicated. Hyejin is complicated.” Everything between the two of them had been complicated. Now more than ever.  
  
Wheein didn’t know what she felt about Hyejin anymore. She still cared about her, still thought she was gorgeous and amazing and lovely. She still got nervous being around her and she still felt this link of familiarity that she would probably never feel with anyone again but...what else? Was there anything else or were they just stumbling through these months back in each other's company trying to glean all that was missed with no honest goal or gain in the end? Or were they both just trying to remain in a palce they knew would keep them safe?  
  
“Sorry,” said Byulyi. “I won’t pry.”  
  
“It’s okay. It’s just…”  
  
“Complicated?”  
  
Wheein laughed uneasily. “Yeah.”  
  
“I get it.” Byulyi smiled but it was half the usual wattage. “Here.” Picking up Wheein’s drink, Byulyi pressed it into her palm. “Don’t let my treat go to waste.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“We can go if you’d like.”  
  
Wheein frowned. She hated to end their night on such a weird note. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll walk you.”  
  
Grabbing coats, the piled them on and headed out. They walked in the cold, elbows bumping occasionally. The cool air was sobering. As they went, the quiet between them didn’t feel so misplaced anymore.  
  
A bump hit her shoulder and Wheein looked up to see Byulyi staring straight ahead, smile unable to keep from tugging at her mouth. Returning the nudge, Wheein laughed at Byuyi’s exaggerated stumble, hand clutching the spot like it hurt.  
  
“Know your strength!”  
  
“Noodle.” Wheein hit her in the arm again.  
  
Byulyi yelled out and lunged but Wheein was quick. She ran away, yelping into the cold as Byulyi chased after her, footsteps smacking the pavement. Icicles burned in her chest as she panted and the wind cut at her cheeks until it was too much and she slowed down allowing Byulyi to catch her. She squealed when arms circled her waist from behind, lifting her up in the air.  
  
“Put me down!” Her cackle was ragged and full of snorts as she kicked her legs out.  
  
Letting her loose, Byulyi helped Wheein catch her balance. “Careful.”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes but held onto Byulyi’s arm as they started walking up the sidewalk at a normal pace. A grin was stuck on her cheeks. It had been a long time since she played around like that with anybody. The good night they intended on having was back again.  
  
She yawned and leaned a head against Byulyi’s shoulder. “You can’t keep having me out late.”  
  
Byulyi laughed softly from the deep part of her chest. “I’ll remember to get you back by curfew.”  
  
Wheein smiled and straightened out as they reached her apartments. A pang of sadness prodded at her when she realized the night was over. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” she asked as they stopped on the sidewalk.  
  
“I like you.”  
  
Wheein’s neck snapped around. She looked up at Byulyi, searching for her usual smile, her joking punch at her shoulder, her anything. She waited for more words to come out of her mouth. Something like, “I like hanging out with you” or “I like working with you” or anything else that didn’t hold the depth and the weight and the meaning of just those three words together.  
  
“I know it seems sudden but I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.“ An uneasy laugh left her throat followed by a hand running through her hair with a nervous stroke. “I’m not good at this, but I like you, Wheein. I know you can’t accept that right now, you know with…” She bit her lip as she trailed off but Wheein knew it was Hyejin’s name that was left out. “I just wanted you to know.”  
  
“Byulyi…I–”  
  
Her mouth pulled into a grin that wasn’t really a grin. It was more of a grimace. “You should get inside. You’ll be one snowflake too many if you stay out here any longer.” A hand slipped out of her pocket to ruffle Wheein’s hair. “Good night.”  
  
She walked away.  
  
Wheein watched her back until it faded away.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
She didn’t have a lot of time to think about what Byulyi said because there was Hyejin. She swept Wheein up and brought her back into old territories, enveloped in the plush of a mattress and cocooned by downy blankets that burned her up along with Hyejin’s skin. Even so, Byulyi slipped through the cracks, tickling at the back of Wheein’s mind, sending her mind into hyperdrive.  
  
Hyejin let up and Wheein opened her eyes to see a stormy pair staring down at her. She had a curious look, brow furrowed in a way that didn’t match the swollen pout of her lips and the flush of her skin Wheein knew she caused.  
  
“What?” she asked starting to feel uneasy the longer Hyejin looked at her.  
  
“Let’s stop.”  
  
“Okay?”  
  
Crawling off Hyejin went to her side of the bed. Glass clinked as she poured herself a cup of wine from the night table. Wheein watched her head go back as she took a long, heavy drink.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Hyejin looked over her shoulder at her before she turned her entire body. Her hair was mused, dark waves like a mane around her face. “You’re different.”  
  
Her neck tightened. “Sorry, I had a long day.”  
  
“It’s not just today.”  
  
Wheein pulled herself up the mattress to rest her back against the headboard. “There’s a lot going on.”  
  
“Like what?” Setting her glass aside, Hyejin rolled onto her side, head propped onto a fist.  
  
Wheein licked her lips, buying herself a second to come up with something that didn’t involve her senior. Butterflies erupted in her stomach when she thought about Byulyi. She didn’t hear many confessions. Sure, some came to her during her time of touring with Yongsun and the boys but that was mostly from fans who adored them or the occasional friend they’d make wherever they were staying. Wheein wasn’t ever interested though she was flattered. Byulyi flattered her as well but Wheein didn’t expect it to shake her up the way it did. A way only akin to the way Hyejin did.  
  
“Changes at work,” she said with a shrug hoping it would look convincing.  
  
It was but it wasn’t enough for Hyejin, however. “Like?”  
  
“I’m not sure yet. They’re still being worked out.”  
  
Her eyes narrowed and Wheein haded how their years of familiarity had turned them into open books with the right amount of scrutiny. “Good changes?”  
  
Wheein thought back to the night standing in front of her apartment with Byulyi beside her looking nervous and antsy. She didn’t know if the confession was good or bad. It was bad in some ways because Wheein wasn’t sure how to act with something like that out in the open. It made her shy and fumble and avoiding. But it was good because...because?  
  
“Yeah, I think so.”  
  
“Good.” Hyejin forced a smile as she dropped onto her back. Her hair fanned across the pillow and Wheein couldn’t help herself from taking a strand between her fingers. “Would you mind taking a break from all of those good changes for a day?”  
  
“What’s in it for me?” Wheein joked.  
  
Hyejin rolled her eyes. “I want you to come to set with me. I’ve seen your world so I want to show you mine.”  
  
Wheein’s brow lifted. That was something new. She nearly forgot the main reason Hyejin was in town. Thinking about it now reminded her of how temporary this was. How temporary Hyejin was. Wheein’s insides knotted.  
  
“Would you like to?” asked Hyejin when she got no immediate answer.  
  
“They’ll let me?”  
  
“Of course. You’d be my guest.” She reached up to take Wheein’s hand from her hair and weaved their fingers together. “I know Sujeong would love to meet you.”  
  
Wheein followed the brush of Hyejin’s thumb trace against the back of her hand. “I could take a half day and come.”  
  
“Just half?”  
  
“Don’t be greedy.”  
  
“I can’t help it.” Hyejin brought Wheein’s hand to her lips. She placed a kiss on her knuckles, on the back of her hand, on her wrist. When she reached the soft inside of her elbow she stopped. “Wheein.”  
  
“Hm?” Her eyes shifted down, taking in Hyejin fully. Her lips flattened in an irritated press before she slinked away and out of bed. “Where are you going?”  
  
“To shower,” she said, voice empty as she tied up her hair with a band plucked off the dresser. “Are you staying or going?”  
  
“I could stay.”  
  
“Do you want to?” She threw her eyes back.  
  
Wheein felt caught. She knew Hyejin could feel her distraction–could sense it. A decline was on her tongue but she thought against it. “Why not?”  
  
“Thought you might be too tired.” Hyejin shrugged. “You don’t have to wait up.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Wheein watched her go with a heaviness in her chest.  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein had never been to a film set before. Show recordings and the sets built on the company lot for idol music videos weren’t like this. There were far more people, much more equipment, and lots of trailers. They lined the lot, each one marked with a different star’s name. Wheein followed Hyejin into each of them, meeting some of the actors, shaking hands and smiling and conversing with them naturally.  
  
It was amazing to see all that Hyejin was involved in and that she wasn’t just a good actress on screen, she was a decent person off camera as well. The stories shared with her about directors and talent and schedules were engaging and only served to show Wheein how much they had diverged and how successful Hyejin truly was.  
  
It was dizzying.  
  
Making it back to Hyejin’s trailer, Wheein relaxed. It reminded her of the travel van from her days of touring with Yongsun and the boys except bigger. Much bigger. She took a seat on a makeup chair set beside a countertop spread with fruits and snacks and an assortment of vitamin, sparkling, and regular waters while Hyejin dropped onto the couch.  
  
“Cool, huh?” Hyejin was grinning, wide and full and excited. It was infectious. Wheein couldn't help but echo it. She really was proud of everything Hyejin accomplished.  
  
“Yeah,” she answered. It was impressive.  
  
To think she started off doing numbers in a sleazy bar that lead her to be picked up by someone out of the country that led her to this was phenomenal. Hyejin had taken leaps and Wheein was right there behind her even if she was a little late to the game. The promise they made in that apartment to never let anything stand in their way held true. Back then it hurt. Back then, Wheein almost didn’t want to heed to it, but she saw what it did for Hyejin and she was living out what it did to her.  
  
“After the shoot is done,” started Hyejin, “I’m going back to the States for a camera test for a role in a series. It’s supposed to be on one of those streaming sites. Maybe a couple of seasons if the first one does well.”  
  
The atmosphere took a turn and Wheein found her eyes drifting to a calendar tacked to the wall over the sink. Days had been marked over with X’s leading that were slowly creeping ever closer to the square that read _WRAP._ Wheein couldn’t believe it. Time had flown by and the news Hyejin dropped reminded Wheein of the night she told her she was leaving for the states.  
  
“I forgot you were leaving soon,” she said more to herself.  
  
“Sujeong is trying to get me into more into Korean media.” Hyejin stretched out along the couch, head propped on the armrest while a hand combed through her hair. “It’ll be nice being back home. Wouldn’t you like that?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Maybe?”  
  
Wheein shrugged. Thinking about Hyejin close again gave her mixed feelings. Her return was a flurry of confusion and a storm of emotions. The longer she remained, the more the luster was lost. Having Hyejin back wasn’t the way she once fantasized about. It was tainted somehow. Still broken and distorted. She wasn’t sure what to call what they had now. It wasn’t friends. It wasn’t lovers. It was just...muddy. Same as before. Wheein didn’t want the same as before.  
  
“We could see each other again,” said Hyejin, turning onto her side.  
  
“I don’t know, Hyejin,” Wheein mumbled. “What you do, what I do, we have different lives now.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“What do you expect us to be?”  
  
Hyejin’s eyes narrowed as her mind worked to decipher Wheein’s tone. “What if we could do like you said? What if we could work it out?”  
  
Wheein looked up in surprise. She didn’t expect those words to come out of Hyejin’s mouth. She was always the one reaching out, wanting more, trying to keep Hyejin within her grasp. Now, Wheein was dancing just at arm's length and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to let herself sink into those arms again or take a step back.  
  
“Work what out?”  
  
Rising off the couch, Hyejin crossed over to Wheein bringing the sweet scent of her perfume. Fingers brushed her cheek, thumb stopping to tease the dimple in her skin. Wheein caught herself leaning into her touch despite herself. “Us.”  
  
The Wheein at twelve and seventeen and twenty leapt at her words. That’s what she was waiting to hear–wanted to hear–for so long but now? Her heart squeezed but her stomach churned.  
  
“You’re never going to stop wanting more,” Wheein muttered. Catching Hyejin’s hand, she held it between her fingers, running tips along her palm and knuckles before they laced together. “And I’m not always going to be able to follow you.”  
  
“We could find a way.” Hyejin brought their joined hands up to tip Wheein’s head back with a tap on her chin. “I’d find a way for you.”  
  
Wheein’s skin warmed and she sighed when lips touched hers in a kiss. Her reaction was automatic, head tilted to deepen the embrace. She knew nothing else but these lips and it was easy to fall back into it, to let their past selves rekindle passions within new forms.  
  
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Wheein breathed. One, because of where they were. Anyone could walk in and see them. Horror bolted through her like the strike of lightning remember how that same sort of scenario played out before. “Hyejin.”  
  
“We’ll be okay.”  
  
The other part of her didn’t want to keep being dragged deeper and deeper into the depths of lips and fingers across her skin. Everything with Hyejin since she came back had sparked an undercurrent of fear that only magnified now that reality came crashing back in.  
  
“No.” Wheein pressed a hand against her shoulder, easing Hyejin away from her. She looked down at her with those intense eyes that held just as much softness in them. “We should’ve– I never should’ve–”  
  
A knock sounded on the trailer door before it swung open. Hyejin pulled away from Wheein just as Sujeong stepped in letting the door slam shut. She looked from Hyejin to Wheein and back to the actress without a single show of the awkward moment she just walked into.  
  
“Makeup will be ready for you in thirty,” said Sujeong, tucking an ipad under her arm. “You need to get dressed.”  
  
Hyejin’s tone was dry and impatient. “I’ll be there in ten.”  
  
Sujeong pursed her lips. “Can you make it five?”  
  
“Seven.”  
  
Sujeong lifted a warning eyebrow at Hyejin before she turned back to Wheein. “I know she’s your best friend, but we have a schedule. Don’t make me put you on the blacklist.”  
  
Wheein willed on a friendly smile. “I won’t. Promise.”  
  
Sujeong nodded. “It was nice to finally meet you.”  
  
“You, too.” Wheein returned her bow and watched as Sujeong left. The silence that followed her departure was uncomfortably sharp.  
  
“What changed?” asked Hyejin, tone biting. “We’ve spent weeks together since I got back. Why are you being like this now?”  
  
Wheein didn’t have an answer for her. Not a simple one. She felt so many things and so many things were happening and going through her head and pulling at her heart that she couldn’t make up from down or right from left of it all. But she did know one thing.  
  
“I love you, Hyejin, but I don’t know what that means anymore.”  
  
Hyejin’s face turned to stone, cloaking the sting of those words behind a mask of indifference. Wheein hated when she did that. She hated her next question more. “Do you want me?”  
  
Wheein froze. She wanted Hyejin in so many parts of her. But she didn’t want the baggage, the heartache, the whiplash. The fear. She didn’t want to drown in what was because it was obvious Hyejin still hadn’t swam her way from the then.  
  
“I don’t know.” The sentence was a bomb and it took Hyejin years of actors training to hold face after they detonated.  
  
“Can I help?” she stuttered in desperation.  
  
A hand cupped her face and Wheein pulled away. “You should go. I have to get back to the studio.”  
  
“Right.” Hyejin left her hand drop away. “I’ll call you later?”  
  
“Yeah.” Wheein pushed on a smile. “Okay.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Wheein hovered outside of Byulyi’s office. She was never this nervous to talk to her senior. Not since her first month of being hired though these nerves were very, very different than what she had then.  
  
Giving a knock, she waited for Byulyi to beckon her in before she stepped inside. She didn’t remember the office being so small or so stuffy or so _hot_. Wheein swallowed through the dryness in her throat when those gentle eyes looked up at her from a computer screen. “Are you ready?”  
  
“Oh. I almost forgot.” Byulyi put her computer to sleep and got up. “Did you get the new lyrics?”  
  
Leaving the office, she followed Byulyi’s path to one of the recording studios. “Yeah. You sent them yesterday?”  
  
Byulyi nodded. “Sorry, it was so last minute. I would do it myself but I can’t sing it like you.”  
  
Wheein’s palms were damp. She wiped them on the side of her pants before pulling the studio door open. Cool air rushed out and enveloped them as they walked into the confined space. It was the same studio she showed Hyejin the song she wrote for the first time. She watched as Byulyi sank down onto the couch and Wheein was thrust into memories of desperate hands and bruising mouths. With the flicker of Byulyi’s eyes gaze, she replaced the image of Hyejin and Wheein had to turn away.  
  
“Do you want to go over the new lyrics?” she asked.  
  
Wheein was glad to have work to focus on. “Sure.”  
  
Byulyi waited for Wheein to take a seat on one of the cushions beside her before she started to speak. Everything was magnified by the still quiet of the room. The work of soundproofing made the air dull and itchy. Wheein felt it in her palms. She knew she should be listening, but her mind was drawn away from business and on all the other confounding things that surrounded her and Byulyi and her and Hyejin.  
  
“Should we get started?” Byulyi looked down at her wrist watch. “I saw on the schedule you have the room booked with Hwasa in a few hours.”  
  
The mention of Hyejin triggered something and Wheein couldn’t take it anymore. “We aren’t together,” she blurted.  
  
Byulyi’s lashes fluttered. She tried to remain cool and collected and neutral but color filled her cheeks followed by a shift in her seat. “Okay?”  
  
Wheein stayed quiet. She didn’t know how to take that response. She didn’t know how to read Byulyi and it unnerved her. She wasn’t like Hyejin who she could pick up on like a book. She wasn’t like Hyejin who declared how she felt and acted upon it in a way that made it nearly impossible for Wheein to evade her. She wasn’t like Hyejin. She wasn’t Hyejin. She was Byulyi and she was patient and she was hesitant and she looked at Wheein with a veiled concern and uncertainty that Wheein felt in herself.  
  
“I’m sorry for how I reacted that night,” she stuttered, gaze dropping to her hands fidgeting in her lap. “It was so sudden and I didn’t know what to say.” Since that night, Wheein had kept it all inside her head. Speaking it out made it all the more real. It made Byulyi’s presence, her closeness, her heat all the more real.  
  
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Setting aside her notes, Byulyi straightened out, shoulders squared so she could face Wheein. “I’m sorry I put that on you so suddenly knowing how things are between you and Hyejin right now.” She gave her usual nervous laugh with a scratch on the back of her head. “It was kind of selfish of me.”  
  
“It wasn’t,” said Wheein too quickly. The next words followed in a blur. “Hyejin was my first. She was everything back then and then she left and now–”  
  
“Hey,” Byulyi nudged her in the shoulder with the bump of a fist. When she looked up, she was met with Byulyi’s easy smile. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”  
  
Wheein’s brow furrowed. “What about what you said?”  
  
“I know how I feel, but if you’re not sure, then I don’t want to push you.” Fingers grazed Wheein’s ear as Byulyi moved hair from her face behind it. “You don’t have to tell me or do anything you’re not ready to.”  
  
Relief loosened up her shoulders when she saw the honesty in Byulyi’s eyes. “Okay. Yeah, okay.”  
  
“Okay.” A knuckle tapped beneath her chin with the soft cluck of Byulyi’s tongue. Wheein felt herself smile. “Come on, let’s record.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
“Yongsuuuun,” Wheein whined. She dropped her face into her palms propped up on her computer desk, pouting at the screen before her.  
  
“What’s wrong?” asked Yongsun taking a sip from a bottle of strawberry milk. Setting it aside, she leaned into the camera. “You look more anxious than usual.” Wheein poked at the camera wishing her finger was stabbing into Yongsun who started to laugh. “Really, what’s going on?” she sobered out and Wheein was swept up in those wide, genuine, and all understanding eyes.  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
Yongsun mimed buckling her seatbelt. “Ready.”  
  
Taking in a breath, Wheein spilled. She told Yongsun everything. From Byulyi to Hyejin to both of them combined. The words flowed out of Wheein’s mouth like water. She hadn’t told anyone before and once the first few sentences were out, everything else followed bit by bit by detail by story.  
  
When she was done, there was silence. Wheein’s pulse started to race in fear of what she had just done. Looking up at the screen, she saw Yongsun staring back at her, wide eyes blinking and mouth sealed shut. She had never seen her old band mate look so shocked.  
  
“Hello?” Wheein tapped the screen. Yongsun was sitting so still, she thought her computer froze.  
  
“Wow.” Yongsun finally moved to lean back on her hands. She let out a long breath, shoulders rising and falling with the weight of the load that had just been dumped onto her. “Where do you hold all of that in that little body?”  
  
Wheein rolled her eyes but she was thankful for Yongsun’s light joke. It loosened the coils in Wheein’s shoulders and she rested back in her computer chair now that all that pent up baggage was out and in the open.  
  
“I’m a little caught off guard. This is a lot to take in.”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Yongsun waved a hand, dismissing her apology. “Give me a second.”  
  
Wheein waited as she watched Yongsun process everything, brow furrowed and lip nibbled between her teeth. Leaning forward, she rested on her elbows, face taking up the entire screen.  
  
“I can’t believe you were that close to Hwasa.”  
  
Wheein groaned. “I’m not getting you an autograph.”  
  
Yongsun pouted playfully then turned serious. “It’s obvious how you feel or felt about her but what about Byulyi? Do you like her?”  
  
Wheein opened her mouth to answer but stopped herself. She didn’t really know what she felt about Byulyi. She knew she admired her. She knew she enjoyed working with her. She enjoyed her company, trapped up in her apartment eating and drinking and laughing together. She enjoyed the way Byulyi ruffled her hair and made silly jokes and slung her arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She enjoyed the way Byulyi made her feel. Like she was worth a chance, she was more than just her talents, she was someone to be proud of and someone to be cherished close.  
  
Warmth eased into Wheein’s cheeks and her belly filled with weird wiggles the more she thought about it. Come to think of it, Wheein never really did think about it. She had only truly liked Hyejin for so long and everything in between was a blur and a decline of anything that tried to come in. This...this was new to her. It scared her. Not as much as the beyond and the conundrum that was Hyejin but in an unpredictable new world sort of way.  
  
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Relax, it’s okay.” Yongsun giggled a little. Wheein wanted to snap at her for poking fun but she knew she was being a little ridiculous. “It’s okay if you don’t but I think you know even if you don’t know yet.”  
  
Whatever she just said made Wheein’s brain hurt more than it already had. “What?”  
  
Yongsun laughed. “What I mean is who are you now?”  
  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Hyejin is from your past, Byulyi could be your possible future, but who are you now? What do you want?”  
  
She took another moment to think. She hadn’t stopped to figure that much out. Since Yongsun, she had been on a path to healing and new identity and learning. She didn’t have time to think about what she wanted outside of getting away from the wreck she had been. She found that, and when Byulyi reentered her life, she was thrust into a new leg only to be tripped up by Hyejin.  
  
Wheein didn’t realize it before, but Hyejin’s returned showed her a lot of things. That she didn’t _need_ Hyejin like that anymore, that she had grown, that she had a place of her own and people around her who cared about her. She realized how much control of her own life she gave up for the happiness of someone else. How that brought on the uncertainty that surrounded everything with Hyejin now.  
  
“Do I have to want anything?” she asked, voice small.  
  
“Isn’t that why you called me?”  
  
Yongsun was right. And even if she didn’t know it all she did know one thing. “I don’t want to go back.”  
  
“No one said you had to.” Yongsun smiled at her, warm and supportive and understanding. “You’ve been through enough, you deserve all the good that comes your way. It doesn’t matter if that’s with Hyejin or Byulyi or someone else. You’ll know. Maybe not now, and you might not figure it out in the easiest way, but you’ll know.”  
  
Wheein rubbed her fist against her eyes, clearing away the wetness Yongsun’s words created. “Thanks for listening.”  
  
“I’m always here.” Yongsun smiled sadly at her. “I’ll be up there soon. I can’t stand seeing you cry on a screen.”  
  
Wheein laughed. “Hurry up, okay?”  
  
“I’m counting down the days.”  
  
-/-/-/-  
  
Music played through the room and faded out with the sweet husk of Hyejin’s voice. Wheein hit a button on the soundboard, cutting the track off before it could play again. The chair squeaked as she swiveled around to Hyejin sitting in the seat beside her. There was a twist in her shoulders like there had never before. Wheein’s own nerves were wound. She didn’t like it.  
  
“We have to master it then it’s done,” she said, taking a sip from a bottled water. Her throat was disgustingly dry. “What do you think?”  
  
“What do you?” Hyejin countered.  
  
Wheein swallowed the gulp in her mouth. “I think it’s good. No one’s heard your voice like this before.”  
  
“I think so, too.” She leaned forward, elbow propped on the soundboard. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” She reached over, running her fingers over Wheein’s wrist to her fingers where she took them up into hers. “Thank–”  
  
“Don’t.” Wheein stopped her before lips could touch her knuckles.  
  
Pulling away, she stood up and moved across the room. She didn’t know where to go so she leaned up against the wall, arms drawn around herself. Hyejin’s mouth was parted, taken aback by the terse rejection. Wheein hated to see it but she needed to be away from her. She needed to think clearly.  
  
“This is it,” she said. “You have your song. You can go now.”  
  
Hyejin scoffed, her hurt callusing over with irritation. “Just like that?”  
  
“What else do you want from me?”  
  
“You never answered my question.”  
  
Wheein’s sighed. “What?”  
  
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”  
  
Wheein’s heart shot up into her throat, choking her off. “I–”  
  
Hyejin sat back in her seat, hands tucked neatly in her lap. She looked so small and vulnerable in that moment, something she didn’t show quite often. When she finally spoke, she spoke with purpose. “When I found out the shoot was in Korea, I went back to my room and I cried. I was so nervous getting on the plane. Sujeong was worried I would start having panic attacks again. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you were still touring with the band but I couldn’t stop thinking about what I would say to you if I did. I was scared you would reject me after everything, so I pushed. I told myself I had to get everything before I left again because I knew we would have to say goodbye.” Hyejin’s eyes fell on her and Wheein could see all the years she’d come into herself but also all the broken parts that hadn’t healed just yet. “But I don’t want to say goodbye.”  
  
“What if I do?” Wheein’s fingers curved into fists, nails stabbing hard into her palms. She couldn’t stand the way Hyejin was looking at her. It was too raw and too pained. Just like that night she said she was leaving. Wheein had to take a breath to steady herself. “Did you ever think about how I felt? Did you ever think that maybe _I_ didn’t want to see you? Everything has been about you, Hyejin. Everything.”  
  
Wheein saw the years flash by. From wanting to run away, to wanting to be idols, to training, to leaving. Alongside that, Wheein maneuvered her entirety to follow Hyejin’s lead, her sense of self, accomplishment, love, safety, worth, success. It all hinged on Hyejin.  
  
It took her weeks to find herself again. It took her months to stand on her own again. It took her years to stop incorporating Hyejin into every little part of her. She found her own happiness, her own worth, her own self and love and stability. She found others like Yongsun and the boys who raised her up and she found Byulyi.  
  
“Even this–” she motioned to the soundboard, “–you found a way to manipulate me into helping you. You can’t force things to be how they were. They can’t be. They won’t.”  
  
“You’re right,” Hyejin muttered to hold off the crack in her voice.  
  
Hyejin knew. Hyejin always knew. Wheein was just never able to see it and Hyejin was too guilty to fully admit it. Now everything was out. The way it should’ve been. The way they didn’t know how to do when Hyejin packed her bags and Wheein cursed her to the very depths of hell. It was out. Truth and honest. It was overdue–seven years overdue–but it was out.  
  
“You’re right,” she repeated. Wheein dropped her gaze when she saw the tears well up in Hyejin’s eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”  
  
Wheein’s mouth sealed shut. She knew she had much of a hand in what happened in the past weeks as Hyejin did. She fanned the flame and let it burn too long. “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Maybe I’m not the only greedy one,” Hyejin quipped. She had every right to. “So, what does that mean for us?”  
  
“I don’t know. All I know know is that, even though I forgive you and I understand why you did the things that you did, having you here right now hurts. It scares me, Hyejin. You ask me to be your girlfriend but all I can think about is what if something better comes and you leave? What if I’m forgotten?”  
  
“You’ll have to trust me.”  
  
“What if I don’t?” Her head snapped over to her just in time to see Hyejin suck in a breath. “I don’t want to be your shadow again. I don’t want to be your secret. Are you ready for that?”  
  
Hyejin blanched. “That’s unreasonable.”  
  
“I’m not asking for the world to know.” She just wanted to know that she wasn’t just going to be another nobody again. She had worked too hard for too long to take backward steps. She had to know that Hyejin wasn’t just going to sweep her aside and become just a puppy again.  
  
Hyejin tightened her jaw. “I take this as you saying no?”  
  
Wheein just stood there, letting her silence be her answer. She saw it register on Hyejin’s face, scrolling through emotions until she regained the mask she wore as her public persona. “Are we done? Is there anything else I need to do here?”  
  
“One of the producers will finish everything out for you,” she said into the quiet trying to ignore the sniffle that echoed through the room. “They’ll help coordinate everything with your team.”  
  
“I’ll wait for their call.”  
  
Wheein gave a terse nod and watched as Hyejin collected her things. The quiet around them was ever unnerving and Wheein wanted to shout out, “Wait! I didn’t mean it!” but the words got caught in her throat and the look Hyejin gave her as she turned around to face her with a longing look dissolved them off her tongue.  
  
“You really wrote a great song,” she whispered if only to keep her voice from breaking.  
  
Wheein shook her head. “We did.”  
  
Hyejin’s smile caused the tears to slip from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, heels clicking along the floor as she made her way to the door where she stopped, hand curled around the knob.  
  
“Let’s start again one day,” said Hyejin. She peered over her shoulder to meet Wheein’s gaze. “Okay?”  
  
A lump swelled in Wheein’s throat. She held her arms tighter across her chest. There was no promise made, no kissed palms to shake, no need for absolute reassurance. They didn’t need it. Wheein knew their paths would cross again. They were connected in a way unexplainable and despite the hills and valleys they went on, Hyejin would always reside within her and Wheein with her.  
  
“Okay,” she replied, struck with a sudden spark of hope. It wasn’t really a goodbye at all.  
  
“You always thought I was the strong one but that was you.” Hyejin smiled. “I love you.”  
  
The door clicked shut on her back and only then did Wheein allow herself to cry. Seconds into minutes, Wheein held her legs against her chest, back pressed back into the wall. She wanted to run out, find Hyejin, and tell her she was sorry. Tell her to come back. But then...  
  
A knock tapped on the wood.  
  
“Wheein?”  
  
...There was Byulyi.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hello! I know what you're thinking. "How dare you do this to wheesa!??!?!??!?". The journey is not yet over. Let me hear your feels below. Are you stressed out after reading? Do you agree with Wheein? Suprised by Byul? Were you rooting for Hyejin? Rooting for Byul? Rooting for some OT3 action?! What do you think will happen next? See you next chapter. 


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